Originally posted on the Reinvented Poet:
I had a thought today that writing is like staring at 3D paintings. You see nothing and then once you have loosened up an image becomes clear. Clive Thompson talks about the power writing has to clarify half formed thoughts. I am now wondering if pictures, in our times of…

It is no mistake that widget rhymes with idjut. This morning I meandered through my usual ridiculous and unrelated thread of impulses that dictate how my Saturday morning begins. I wondered what happens to all the gigabytes. This is my most recent version of the age old ‘if I jump in an elevator at the…

I just saw your face  – in an airport lounge Or rather,            your features expressed on a stranger At least in side profile anyway – For three seconds as I walked by. Who would have thought ? More than a decade has passed  Since I rushed home  And flung open…

I just read an author with a voice so familiar I thought I might have written that prose myself. Then he used gaps of demarcation and I was envious   of his process      so much so that I use it here  now.  Present tense, read.          Past tense read.  Like…

where you can go and have that authentic experience I walk by vietnamese street food sold in stores made of plywood props referencing hawkers markets in our commercial ‘precincts’ competing for my eye against a backdrop of taco/burger/meatball ‘bars’ and when I see factory mass produced industria it’s all I can do not to have…

waiting for a bus for half an hour warm water from a rubber hose  an engaged signal sunburn lighting fireworks legally smoking on a plane a television dial radio buying ciggies with a note baby oil and tan lines  news being new bryan.

Hard to title this one. It goes out to people who have had a brain injury. Mark Wearne, this is his quote.He had an aneurysm age 40. I was on the toilet when I found out: “you are fucking kidding me” were my first words.  What a journey, what a road. Anyway a couple of…

Burn The Rich http://thefitzroyflasher.blogspot.com/2015/04/burn-rich.html

Grief is the certainty that ahead of you is something else you never chose. It’s that wilted rose. That empty wall. The blank stare that meets your gaze. It is the end of days.

The largest number has threes To the powers of threes And takes four goes To hit seven trillion The smallest number divided To the largest power Must take no time at all To hit rock bottom

The novelty of silence Where thoughts feast on the remnants of memory yet digested.

My daughter got me into this Catfish TV series. Being a movie freak of course I had already seen the docudrama. People meet online. Strike up a bond. Transfer onto each unmet other some incredible yet tenuous bond. Meet and discover, with heartbreak, that it was all a facade. That both sides in effect had…

I am a staunch feminist. But this is the other slice of this pie we need to heat up and eat

Because woman aren’t pretty and men aren’t superheroes  Because men look hot showing leg Because we deface the image of men  And listen to the voices of women Because we ridicule the ageing rock stars and praise the queen of pop And women worship men’s lush lips and big tits And behave like predators …

Why do I love this concept so much ? I guess it plays to my soft spots. Being Melbourne, art, icons, dogs and coffee. Nothing else to say. @ACCA @SummerSaltAU …art of Anastasia Klose …blurry photos courtesy of caffeine deprived moi