Words fall out of my pocket

Gratuitous sentences milling around the water cooler

There are moments when I am too embarrassed to pick them up

Stairwells and elevators are the regular black spots

They stick to my size 11 shoes like gum stretching for existence

Sometimes I think so hard for so long

And then nothing happens

I wonder why 

I get comfortable on the 423 en route to Marrickville

I’m the lady standing up in the back scratching her mind in public

Everybody leaves me alone

Conversing with whispers

The transit cops lean in on stand-by

Perhaps they would prefer I kept my mouth shut

I read out aloud the paid advertisement

Arching above the bus driver’s 5 O’clock shadowy head

In bold italic font it screams at the passengers

“Don’t be afraid to turn the page”

My treadmill thoughts whilst consistent

Remain unfit for public consumption

I sing like a bridled bird in a wired cage

Some words are like a precious ache

They kneel for no one



“quote – unquote”

“to come up for air
after swimming inside
the sweetest Shiraz
the deepest purple
the imploding silk
is like nothing
one can imagine...

...a dismembered trolley
bearing sandalwood candles
caressing essential oils
rattling through
the suburban car park
on insufficient funds
at the local markets
over a lazy Sunday
is like time elapsed
compared to your warmth”



poet's biography ->