Jackson

The moon is a piece of rock in the sky. One watches through locked glass as the other shuts a steel door and drives, under the black sky, under the moon that is a piece of rock, that couldn’t feel the test pilots brushing its surface, taking some samples, planting a flag. The moon is… Read more

In the dream, he tells me he doesn’t need a condom because he has his book. In the dream, we’ve both read it. Condoms are a manifestation of Capitalism. A Bad Thing. Probably made by Monsanto. We don’t need them. We can use our minds to divert the sperm. In the dream I know it… Read more

the hibiscus blossom closed wrapped around itself pointing north Read more

In this dream I heal the cuts his bareness has left all over me with tart, sparse, sweet, spreading lemon oil, the same soft stings with which I nurture your smooth unlacquered fret-slit rosewood fingerboard First published in Society of Women Writers WA Newsletter Read more

Last week’s rose, aslant in a carafe, is puffed and piled like a 60s hairdo, curling at the edges into frills of delicate crescents like sad little lipstick smiles. Last week’s rose is dancing on the laminex, scattering scarlet tatters, oozing louche scent. Last week’s rose is on the pull. I extend a finger, mothkiss… Read more

Dream A cable strung across a room Songs pegged out to dry / Men practising music / Rockn Jaunty / Intense / Guitars Basses / Voices / I tried to join in / I tried to peg my voice to the line / But it wouldn’t hang / The drug man practised his drug music… Read more