Today I met a rich man. He was packing up his 4WD after a long weekend at the country house, over-looking the ocean, nextdoor. His face was heavy with several decades of Camembert and expensive Shiraz. He seemed embarrassed about his dog. He shook my hand as if he were going for a home run, … More Letter to a rich man at dusk.
I hit the boy in a daydream. He strolled his motorbike straight out onto the highway where my 50km an hour cruise in flipflops and sun dress was abruptly confused into a squall of bent metal, shredded petals and grating skin. It was a bright morning, the scent of papaya and grass smoke on the … More Through the window
There was a story once, about a girl so in love, and so confused, that even though the man she adored was near her every day, she never once dared risk his attention. Years and years went by before, one day, she found herself beside him and, even though she was tattered from the heavy seas of … More Love bird
Lilium xx in her glass, brightly she furls and uncurls her long limbs, xxxxxxdusted xxxxxxwith tiny creatures xxxxxxof light. xx almost naked in the thin glow of this quiet table, beside the car keys and a flotsam of letters with plastic windows, she slow … More Lilium – in her glass, brightly.
In the garden, wet with rain, we went seeking a balm for our longing. There, folded in the petals of a flower, trembling in the heart of every leaf – the letters of a poem from the beloved. * * * * First, find yourself humbled aroused electrified by a petal…. wet with rain. … More Eroticaaaa…..
The boy in the beanie is a vapour, a smoke ring, a dream thought… dissolving upon waking. The boy in the beanie, when I first saw him from my hidden window in the secret room of our grand State Library, turned my breath into hiccups and my novel to soup. Even then, from three flights … More Unsent Love Letters – for Barney.
The purple flower fits exactly the heavy bee whose little body, swerving like a drunkard on a string, can yet land in exactly the right way to please her. He opens her slightly, she shakes her head then quits her pouting. A gasp; she quivers. The bee drives on and, fully embraced in the throat … More The heavy bee