by ROSS JACKSON before dwellings begin swelling across the plain of hot, grey sand crows, magpies, goannas, galahs hopping on and off roadways scant of traffic they’re on a mostly fruitless mission since not much nutrition in thatches of yellow…
by ROSS JACKSON Aided by the journal and the photos, my older self recalls a tortuous journey voluntarily undergone for days at a time while being bowled by a gale along a roller coaster of cliff tops within a groove…
by MARILYN HUMBERT It’s a short walk from the carpark through cypress and ironbarks to the huddle of granite monoliths time worn like old people. Above me layers of clouds scud in opposite directions waiting for a storm. My steps…
by MARILYN HUMBERT Red rock bleeds into cliffs staining a serpentine path to the gap where the white sand creek bed gleams, we sit on the rim legs crossed our voices raised in song. Grace notes mingle with pollen and…
by KRIS HEMENSLEY 29/8/2023 (after Karl Ove Knausgaard’s fatal encounter with deer on night road no green sward and better said sweet deer’s fatal encounter with Knausgaard — p.43 WINTER “I looked at the trembling outline in the ditch before…
by KRIS HEMENSLEY 9/8/2023 (1 p.m. —i am man with a bun sitting in the sun —stalked by gull —same one each time? daily patrol —hah! —bench & flagstones — any human’ll do —add crumbs to its exemplary skin &…
by JEANNIE HAUGHTON where landscape dwarfs everything freckled and speckled umber sands asphalt ribbon looping between outcrops russet boulders burnished bronze scrub fading into a blue distant skyline- shimmer-hazed blips nomad vans embracing the long haul languid stretches roads and…
by JEANNIE HAUGHTON cloudless endless sky Cessna drone drills holes in the silence predator-tense the man with a camera perches cockpit awkward scanning for horizon-framed perfection he filter-tweaks expanses of landscape zooms a bird’s eye view of a flea-sized roo…
by JEANNIE HAUGHTON Briny the air tanging the tongue misting the eyes under sombre skies the stones on the waterline roll-rest-roll-rest-roll-rest hightide treasures pocketed parched-pale ’til wave-slapped a palmed pebble is magically reborn recalling nurimono that other sheen in that other…
by ALLEYNE HALL In memory of my father, John Leslie Hall From Tallarook, VIC – June, 1931 After our first search, in teeming rain, on horseback, through mud and steep bush, they radioed me at the station … I still…
