Intimacies, intricacies, cadences

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Learning the local language

Essay IT WAS IN a Melbourne museum that I realised I didn’t know the traditional name for the area in South Australia where I’d grown...

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Everything you could possibly imagine

FictionJoseph was one of the only patients I’d truly enjoyed interacting with, which for the weeks since his arrival had helped me cope with the ward’s sense of monotony. His beard was like a cartoon lumberjack’s, descending into a fine point and thick enough to hold objects if they were stuck into it – which, of course, we’d tried. His eyebrows erupted like old-growth forest across his forehead, almost demanding to be touched – which, of course, I hadn’t.

picker

Poetry light’s tacked to the window i want it to pick at me eat me like fairy floss or a scab you say it’s sexual frustration i pick at...

Exemplary

Poetry The superego’s unvarying verdict: you have failed, you deserve it, get over it! Stay in your own psychotic micro-enclave, opining about enactment and re-enactment. Now and again there’s...