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This city with no streets but networks of amputated limbs. This officious city of criminal investigations and inquests whose soul is a square of cheap, grey carpet and a water dispenser. The tinkle of pachinko, the sudden sirens of attack.…
My friend Steve, whom I met during my first week in Seoul, has kindly forwarded me some snaps he took during that time. It seems so long ago now – the days were insufferably hot and the evenings were beer-soaked.…
hear the wet kittens mewling for their lost mother must we eat bamboo?
Wake up calm. It will be morning soon. Hours disappear, then shatter at the sound of a phone call (wrong number). Your mobile bleats when it’s time to change the battery, in that awfully disconnected voice that’s had reverb added…
[This is the full text of an article due to appear in the National Tertiary Education Union’s publication Advocate early next year] In August this year I travelled to the Republic of Korea this year as an Asialink resident to…
I’ve just had two poems published on a US-based blog called PFS Post. They’re called “Dying On The Vine(s)” and “Eight Miles High”. You can view em here. I’ve also got two poems, entitled “Avalon V” and “Inna” in the…
we’ll get drunk & spit at stars roll cars out into roads & fight trespass on the night’s property we’ll fall in love & then forget throw bottles at the alley cats invade Poland, or whistle tunes we’ll wind our…
Fifty days in the land of the morning calm. Forty nine nights in a city that breathes like a dragon. Forty eight days drinking cold coffee from cans. Forty seven nights without an Australian radio station. Forty six days stepping…