Seething since 2000*
American Creek II
i. Leaves that flick at the years before me, maniacal, seething. The first of a now-suburban dead. With nobody watching him he softly buried grass. I chomp on weeds & in my sleep bears make me wear things that keep…
Ernie Malvern
To chew on grass in the sunshine. To lick at the yolks of eggs, or bright & fern-dappled sunlight out in the yard. The trees crack like whips & faraway the southerly, the change comes. It’s worst at night, beneath…
Betty Malvern
Betty Malvern with a bee. Here’s my sisterly path, the secret way. Through the woods, into the sunlight for a sec. Token uniform a spot of brown by the creek. Small whorls of dirt in the clear water, like washing…
Alicia Malvern
They don’t believe in fairies but I do. You don’t believe in fairies, do you? I have seen them, and you’re wrong. I’ll bide my time, until they all come back to visit. They like to hide inside jacaranda trees.…
Jess Malvern
The creek’s steam mingles with our gossip, picking apart other peoples’ reputations, as we do. The morning stream calls. I ran out of the house, missing the fern by millimetres. In a way this flood is funny. It washes so…
Jason Malvern
I can feel the nettle, stuck in my leg, this remnant of Nebo’s glory, shoved deep inside my thigh, and poisoned too. I can just imagine the swelling there, and the pain. Totally worth it. An opportunity I’d never had…
Clint Malvern
The school yard’s dense with bodies BUT I CAN’T HEAR A THING. No need to shout, a corona’s hanging around her head. The silence of summer. Here we go, across the iron bridge and onto the sports oval. Grass whistle.…
Verna Malvern
You know it’s just that every day this wave of International Roast it just hits me, in the common room, and I want to run. I see a pile of papers that may never get marked, handwritten notes, attendance rolls,…