In his review of Lucy Van’s The Open, Gareth Morgan writes that Van writes 'against the impulse to ponder dutifully about the sins of the past and present.' This fucked me up for some time. What is it to ponder dutifully? But perhaps more importantly, how do we ponder in a way that's more … metal?

This summer I can feel myself turning back into an animal. I wake up early and seek out trees, walking through the expansive quiet of the park until the heat starts feeling sharp on my skin. I leave the blinds closed, so when I return home the building is dark and familiar, and as I shut the door behind me I feel a satisfaction I can only describe as territorial.

On reading Bonney, on reading Faulkner, on reading Fanon, on reading Mieville read Marx at my desk while listening to Fisher on Audible tell me ‘those who can’t remember the past are condemned to have it resold to them forever’ and then rewatching again again that scene where the dead friend says she will take the displaced surplus of love that grief leaves for us to swallow for herself, the room a tender glow from steampunk LEDs I splurged on at the reconstructed crude oil store with money I was paid for poems howling to the dead ...

Fogarty’s is a unique and essential poetic voice in ‘world’ poetry, that has determinedly pushed change in ‘Australian poetry’, and maybe most relevantly, has disrupted both English usage in Australia, and even taken this use well beyond hybridity into a full-blown reclaiming of the space of meaning of words that is anti-colonial, decolonising and, actually, revolutionary.

I am a Kennedy says Eileen, blue black eyes gleaming. The homeless are raised up, the lonely head for shelter in a theatre basement with 1000 women and children. We are a security council and I am your President. They will break the mould after me.

When iso’s over I’m buying a coleslaw handfuls of nectarines, vanilla pudding to keep the lockdown woes at bay, I’m kinda worried not rly because I’ve got the spicy cough you know, I’m young – no underlying conditions but my brother has spent the past week in emergency

I have watched the 1OUTS rap battle video 2SHAE VS SNIPES, so many times. I’ve watched and re-watched it with old friends. I’ve shown it to new friends from different parts of Australia and the world. A friend from Brisbane recently noted that every time my group of friends from Melbourne hang out, the Snipes video […]

I wake up, standing to a horizontal glare in eyes I can’t remember shutting on a platform at a station of a line that must be elsewhere Where the night chill pricks like daybreak a helium confusion at being alive and born clothed

We wake by still water to what sounds like a large pearl dropped from a great height, it breaks the surface tension with a resonant nasal tock more than a splash. A lake is an inland expanse of standing water. This one is nine hundred and sixty-three metres above sea level.

Sara and I attend the opening night for the NGV’s QUEER exhibition. We were not invited and we did not buy tickets – in fact we did not even know it was on until stumbling upon it after watching the new Batman movie at the HOYTS in Melbourne Central and deciding to walk home south along the Yarra.

Zelda D’Aprano held onto the chain with the devotion of a worker who sifted through the words of bosses to find that reason to obey, she held the chain with the ease of a woman holding a handbag of unfair payslips, she held the chain with the strength of her father’s will to survive the Nazis and the drive of her mother’s hope to share our burdens.

ABC News Exchange is inviting you to a scheduled Zoom meeting. / Time: Jan 6, 2022 03:00 PM Canberra, Melbourne, Sydney / Interviewer: Why are you boycotting Sydney Festival? / [redacted]

Been watching women in romantic comedies toss tiny handbags over their shoulders, laugh without smudging their gloss. They suck lollipops noiselessly, as if silence is true seduction.

You’re asleep in the next room. I watch Genet’s Un Chant d’amour. A prisoner is in love with the murderer in the next cell. He kisses the concrete between them. The guard is jealous.

the ratings icons have vanished no one cares yes maybe no mostly no --- how’s it going bin night bin night bang bang bring out the dead --- & the mouse plague – how’s that going in the barren paddocks wheat &endless glare

The delivery zone is empty but investors have no crisis of relevance and couldn’t care less — deliveries are taking place elsewhere and will continue until the cows come home — there’s metal-dust on the water vats, the hand-sanitiser dispenser is exhausted or ignored.