These poems will be appearing in a variety of literary journals in early 2018.
The pelicans jostled
the piglet & rooster
as the clouds built up before us.
We packed our pepper grinders
and sought cover beneath towels
watching the fragile boats on the horizon.
They reminded us of celestial times
when the water was pure
and the shells not yet a midden
that spoke of what had become of all the gathering.
And the pelicans
kept jostling & the rooster crowed & the piglet ran home.
We laid the chillies out
put the haul by handful into bags,
spoke of that time
with turtles and dugongs, sea celery and rafts.
As the day mellowed, the honeyeaters sang out.
We braided a future
from stalks, knowing, once more, that
endless summer brought comfort.
We had memories of saffron
at a farm where we drank champagne and watched the light
blue the hills
and the emu in the stars came out
and we thought of the time we were covered in goose fat
and roaming over ruins
making our ventricles and atria pump with bursts of fire
when we knew what time was
and our own livers said to us, from inside, that the fields were boundless
with new shoots.
In the fire to the west of here,
roaring up the ridge
blazing the damn into steam,
we saw the seeds that would become the trees that would become the beams
that became the rhythm of the floor plan.
We scored it for harmony, a hundred-fold thread of desire in the burning.
And what they meant, which is what we knew they always said
was that here, east of the coast,
and down the road from the jewelled caves
was that we balanced the world with the soil that grants it so.
In the reflection of copper
we saw tables
laid with a feast
with candles and whole ducks
with pomegranates and rabbits
with lambs that they shot for us
as we stood at the edge of the limestone pit, looking at corruption and whiteness.