It clings to your fingers as you stand there smoking your cigarette. It dribbles from your chin as your eyes shine like those of a cat’s as cars speed past like bullets. When it drips and drools and drips again from that pretty little wide-open mouth, I’m not far behind. When it tumbles to… Read more

  If I’m on a high, then I’ll take a bite out of you, but if on the other hand, I’m in the midst of a great depression, I’ll just curl into a ball and hide away somewhere like a dying animal does when it senses the end. If you get through my defences and… Read more

  In a slow embrace somewhere on the outskirts of nowhere, we smoke cigarettes wishing for war while remembering how simple things used to be back when there was only love. Love and Sunday afternoons and walks and talks and not much of anything else as the falling leaves above our heads acted as metaphors… Read more

  Star child. Flickerer of matches and singer of useless songs. A suckerer of necks and seer of startling visions. Words and lyrics and bellyaches that lead to headaches that stretch across the days and weeks as if there was no other way other than this. And there isn’t, right? Let me sniff your nipples… Read more

  After work, there came a bath and a cigarette to ease my aching bones. An hour or so later and all dried off, I found myself in bed watching a compilation on YouTube of all the Neighbours intros from the 1990’s. Y’know, the Australian soap opera set in Ramsay Street? As a kid, they showed… Read more

  Walking hand in hand through buildings that will one day crumble into dust, we observe the pale traces of life in silence. Drinking from our warm cans of beer, we know by morning it will be over, and the distance between us will be as it was, but in this tiny bubble, we smile and… Read more

  When the moment arises, I fetch a memory of you and put it into words. When the doorway opens, I take a slice of dead time and in my own strange way, make it come alive. This is how I get my kicks. This voodoo shit. This magic that drains me as much as… Read more

  In a disused phone booth, I piss away a week’s wages and shiver as if someone were walking over my grave. With my mouth wide open and fingers clenched, I wonder how I got here but the events of the evening have long since escaped me. Observing the streets from relative obscurity, the sights… Read more

  I’m on my hands and knees crawling around in the mud. Not sure why. Could be that I’m drunk as a skunk, or that I’ve overdosed on her fumes and am now somewhere in the midst of obsession and frenzy with no way of coming down. Is it the back garden or a field… Read more