State Electorate Profile: Brunswick

Abbey Saxon gives you the political rundown on Melbourne's most (in)famous inner-northern suburb.

Why the Left Sucks: An Inquiry into Campus’s Most Hated Political Group

It is no exaggeration to say that The University of Melbourne is one of the largest breeding grounds for leftist thought in the country. For those of us who have been on campus–walked past the columns

The Aesthetics of Poverty – Why students at UniMelb are so keen to appear poor.

The discourse accusing this so-called ‘student aesthetic’ of fetishising poorness has surfaced within the past year on social media (especially TikTok) and in conversations between students on and off

Satire: Farrago Shuts Down; Honi Soit Now Australia's Oldest Student Publication

As of today, Farrago Magazine, Australia’s oldest student publication, will cease operations under the current four editors.

VCA Students Demand UniMelb to Commit to “Zero Tolerance” Policy

Students at the Victorian College of the Arts (VCA) are calling on the University of Melbourne to “commit to stronger policies and actions when it comes to sexual assault”, after the University ignore



She the Sea

The water in those submerged vessels / once was in the sea. Just like / I once was a particle in my grandmother

A wave striped with shades of dark blue. Its white crest curls, and bubbles rise within it.

The white curved belly of my grandmother
as she lies in shallow, twitching afternoon sleep
resembles the sails of a ship.

Blue veins dozing beneath,
pulsing along, spidering out, sluggish but loyal
in their task of transportation.

The water in those submerged vessels
once was in the sea. Just like
I once was a particle in my grandmother

and she was once a particle in her mother,
which was yet before that an atom of waves,
or a shark, or a coral,
or a grain of sand.

That endless and effusive galaxy of wonders,
ripe as red peaches, indomitable as tides
and the woman’s will—

it is of an entirely alien nature to the sea.
Yet, in the tiniest compartment of flesh,
within entrenched atoms
whizzing and whirling on ancient roads,

this galaxy is the same as that where the sharks hunt,
where the prow splashes,
where breath is ripped out.

Blue deserts haunted with forgotten things;
red caverns throbbing with a screaming want
to bite into the lips of the world.

Because my mother swam beneath the white sail,
and I swam there too,
my breath is a cataclysm
of this one particle crashing
through my skin where I floated.

Bursting through
still unsure, soft, osmotic flesh.
A clash, an intercourse, a dissection, an entwining.

A need as riotous and strident
as air exploding from a whale’s blow-hole, surfacing,
hungry to glimpse the sky of the world that birthed it
from between its steadfast thighs.

Do you wonder why we all know so well, even as children,
the vile, bitter bite of the sea on our tongues? Why it stings us,
why it leaves us momentarily blinded when the watery shards
strike our eyes?

Farrago's magazine cover - Edition Five 2022


Our last print edition of 2022 is here! This wild, visionary edition is filled with burning nostalgia, glittering hope, and tantalising visions of the future, past, and present.

Read online