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.