writer | editor | artist
Personal writing challenge in which I attempt to write a new piece (almost) every day. Each one 200 words.
The boat slowed and eased towards the shore. The torch that the captain was holding illuminated the truck on the shore and the waiting men, each of them holding a rifle. The soldiers were surrounded by enormous moths, with white wings, their wings flashing reflected light. A magical cloud, attracted to the light, bumping up against the…
I was born by the side of the road in a year nobody remembers. Meaning not that nobody remembers that year, but that nobody who was there when I was born recorded the fact of my birth, or recalls it, or is still alive. Except for my sister. I don’t recall meeting my sister, but…
There are an enormous number of general empirical propositions that count as certain for us. One such is that if someone’s arm is cut off it will not grow again (L Wittgenstein, On Certainty) There were nine of them to begin with. Children, that is. Ten, if you count poor Dora, dead before she began. There were…
There was a long road into the forest, and I drove down it in my old ute, with the children in the back, bouncing and laughing as we made our way down the rutted dirt road to our new house. The house was made of stones. We walked around the outside, putting our hands into…
In the winter, the wind and his wife began to dwindle. They put a candle in the window, to light the path to their door. No one came near but the owls, who watched the old couple bend, and fetch, and fade. They were barely a whisper, barely a wisp. They had made a last…
The girl in this poem does not love you She’s just a girl, after all one syllable, four letters barely a phoneme, she’s just a noun, common as a lettuce or a paperclip. The woman who wrote it on the other hand is a wreath of bones and blood wrapped round a disobedient heart (a heart…
This semester, I’m teaching a writing course called Fairytales & Other Forms. Every week, we read a fairytale in various variants, and the writers in the course are asked to write their own (new!) version. The students are second year undergraduates, who are totally amazing. Every week they surprise and delight me with insights into…
— In honour of World Poetry Day We are on the way to the meeting when one of the poets calls and asks us to pick up beer on the way. Although we are on the phone for a while (the fields of the Lockyer Valley flashing past us, fading into darkness as we pass)…
I did shoplift something once, when I was a teenager. I went to K-Mart with my best friend and (deliberately) dropped the stolen goods into a milkshake I had purchased especially for that purpose. I don’t remember what the item was that I stole. Intended to steal. In the end, I didn’t have the guts…
I don’t know why I remember that argument with my mother so precisely. We have fought many times, over the years, with increasing frequency. I keep waiting for things to ease off. To reach that moment I have heard about when she sees me as a woman, and I see her as one. When we…