What would you say to the idea of receiving a brand-new, exclusive broadside from the Daveyverse in your inbox every week?
BULK
ACE
FULLY
UNTOLD
-
a story
•
8 min read
Hello, possum. I’m trying to write a story that’ll take you a day to read, or just less than four weeks. The kind of story that’s full of description, dialogue, character development and unexpected polka dots. Benny grabbed the knife. I’m trying to write an untold story. Sounds hard, doesn’t it? The kind of story…
-
buddha three machine
•
2 min read
This one’s a secret, between us three. You, me and Buddha – our secret machine. A dim machine with four long limbs, two hearts and one desire. Explodes upon impact with water or fire. A new machine in time, its discernable hum. The clock that will not lock, an horizon’s tilt. A pink smoke machine,…
-
Here comes the judge
•
1 min read
For the first time ever, I’ve been asked to be a judge for a short story competition. The competition, organised by the City of Boroondara, features three categories: Open Short Story (judge Paddy O’Reilly), Young Writers Poetry (judge Bulk Ace) and Young Writers Prose (judge, yours truly). Jippie. Here’s hoping we get lots of good…
-
Texting Templates
•
2 min read
Please call a doctor. I’m losing blood. There isn’t much time. I’m at home. Please call a doctor right away. I mean it. Hang up the phone, then dial the number. It’s on the fridge. Above that one. Right. You’ve got it? Good. Now, do it. I’m at work. Please call home, as there seems…
-
Every Single Saturday Is Stocktake Day
•
0 min read
-
two buddha machine
•
2 min read
Send me your sunshine. Only you can make this buddha machine run. When there’s just one the drone creeps and the loops begin to skip. Buddha needs two machines to set up his feedback mantra, his fearful explosions. Buddha’s playing your melody. Buddha’s sweating underneath those robes. Your sunshine is Buddha and the sound of…
-
Poetry Picture Show
•
1 min read
In breaking news I’ve been chosen as one of 10 poets to participate in a project organised by Johanna Featherstone’s The Red Room, a Sydney-based arts company specialising in poetry projects for screen, radio, print and real space. Entitled Poetry Picture Show, the project asks each of us to write an original poem inspired by…
-
The Heat-Ray
•
5 min read
No one would have believed in the middle of an already bleak Antipodean winter that cylinders of heat would one day be passed out to individuals as a last refuge against atomic chill. Silver cannisters cold to the touch but containing propellants and gases that, upon contact with the eerie airs, would spontaneously ignite, providing…
-
Polka Dot
•
2 min read
My co-pilot loves polka dots. I love their simple English. Dots that could connect me to the whole world if I wanted, and I do. Polka dot scarves for summer picnics and walks through symmetrical green gardens. Polka dot shirts for shimmering nightclubs and photo opportunities. Polka dot skirts for Sundays and intercontinental flights. I…
-
Jason Malvern
•
3 min read
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 before In the field. The perfect ambush. No Sound save for the odd raindrop. Op.†…
-
Clint Malvern
•
3 min read
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. I’m still asleep. Memory tastes of Vita Brits. Something snaps in my ear as† the…
-
Imaginary City in Stylus!
•
1 min read
Issue 22 of Stylus Poetry Journal is out now, featuring some kewl haiku plus poetry by Frances Raven, Justin Lowe, Barbara Archer, Julie Beveridge, Caroline Gilbo, Leanne Hills, Graham Nunn, Ynes Sanza, Jena Woodhouse, Caleb Puckett, Mandy Beaumont, Alison Eastley and me! Read imaiginary cities: heli today! This is the fifth city to have found…
-
Verna Malvern
•
3 min read
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, and I just want to bolt. I navigate classrooms, listen to the bells but† it’s…
-
Ralph Malvern
•
3 min read
By American Creek there’s a fig tree with someone’s name written on its trunk. I hesitate to say mine. Okay, yes. In some fit of adolescent vanity I carved the initials RM there one day, after school. Never have gone back to look at it. What would be the point? Just a memory now, like…
-
American Creek I
•
3 min read
i. By American Creek there’s a fig tree that’s been chopped off at the waist. Nothing but a brown stump remains. it’s the reason for my suburb’s name. & as for mine, you ask? Ralph will do. Mr Malvern to their friends at school. I watch them walk down O’Brien’s Rd. Reflected in the Fairlane’s…