supporting local Artists
supporting local Artists
after the bomb I stumble through rubble — this tunnel vision shows someone stealing a dead man’s wallet Colombo, Sri Lanka, 1987 grandma’s shrine I sort blooms on trays learning the brief nature of all things’ existence Ratnapura, Sri Lanka,…
Helen Genoni-Farnham grew up on a farm in Gippsland. She has travelled widely, over many years, but has now returned to the area. She is now happily living in Warragul, with her own garden and her own washing-machine. She hardly…
by Kris Hemensley 1. 30 Aug 24 (14.20 or mid afternoon — wind the belter predicted — at Degani’s swallow complimentary water in a single gulp – like Morse “a proper drink” he says “it helps me to think” (fear…
The last train station by Wayne Pollard Can or can it not be said that a passage of scribed thoughts from the revelation reveals that out of a river red gum forest resting on the banks of the Murray River…
by Agi Dobson We walk in bright early- morning sun last night’s argument still in our mouths hoping sunshine will absolve. We walk. A light breeze caresses. We do not speak. Surreptitiously I watch you take breath, my mind numb.…
by Celeste Brittain night falls on the riverside board walk reflected in water a cathedral of stars deep, luminous glistening out of reach a hum like an engine – water crashes against rocks we shine torches on seaweed, and walk…
Celeste Brittain is an emerging writer and poet currently living on Bunurong country (Bass Coast). She’s studying a graduate diploma in journalism at Deakin University. In 2021, she won first prize in Latrobe City’s Power of Words short story competition.
Slow glow a tanka string over the edge of the water day’s end in fire with canons of silvery power emptying the beach from my shoe in the morning dew only the stone smell remembers washed skies – drops of…
Tick Tock a tanka string a little girl with dandelion clock blows away strong parachutes that need enormous puffs her smile hovers in delight tick tock will there will always be more seeds to blow away? one moment — let…
by J F GARROW They are all walking past this ute parked up outside the farm and noticing a dead lamb alone on the tray of the ute as they walk past. They mostly keep on walking past the ute…