A six pack of Canadians On the side of the road One can out and open He gently lays it down And straightens to walk With an uneasy swagger His tobacco red fingers On tobacco grey beard And on his face anger I grudgingly approach And our eyes meet So I nod and he smiles…
Read MoreYou are there
A dull day afoot on wet gravel, Tyres whisking shallow puddles, I feel a teasing warmth, Beyond thick cloud, and The crisp of the air – You are there. You are there.
Read MoreGluons in a Car Park
Your hand outstretched against my breast as we brake too fast: My fist clenches just the way you hate it- As I stare at the approaching distance. ‘Don’t do that’ you ask, so my grasp loosens. I shift gaze and lean into you as best I can, To tell you about gluons mediating forces between…
Read MoreShe floats my boat
She backs a boat with the precision of a surgeon wielding a scalpel, Slicing through skin that is warm, but impervious to the nervous system’s warning. And she is oblivious to the effect that this has on my all too anaesthetised heart.
Read MoreSouthern Expressway
I drive under Sugar Bush road Blasting songs of the unrequited And passing by the Honey Pot I flick through Spotify until Doe Paoro sounds about right – her pulse of rhythmic bass/ love lyrics tethering me to this place that sounds of waves and smells of salt and dust and tastes of long nights and…
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Always Was
cannot advance fairly when we give speeches at a race that drowns the nations choices always was, always will be white fellas voices.
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