More Poems of Australian Childhood

THE COCONUT There had never been a coconut in our townuntil my sister ordered one from the shop.We waited months for it to arriveand almost drove Mr Baldini crazyasking for news of this round messengerfrom the outside world we’d never seen.When the coconut finally arrived,it was like a taste of the exotic,a cure for our… Continue reading More Poems of Australian Childhood


I have some items of poetry news to share. Firstly, I am very pleased to have been shortlisted for the Allingham Poetry Prize. The final results will be announced next month, so we shall see what happens. Two of my recent poetry acceptances have some special sentimental value. My family originally came from County Roscommon… Continue reading News

Poems of Australian Childhood

The Continent of Insects Australia is really theirs:for hundreds of millions of years they have fought each otherand the brutal landscapein primordial arms racesthat developed specialised workers,warriors with pincers and shieldingand sophisticated social structures.Wars and alliances between themstill come and go, like their cities,while elsewhere humans in parallelare living out their noisy moment. Numbat Our journey… Continue reading Poems of Australian Childhood

another bright sunday

In the endless metropolitan grey, the weekend flashes by between two darknesses. Many wander lost in the pause: swimming, lying on the beach or flying, giving their bodies back for a moment to the elements from which they were made, while others die, going back to them for good; time has washed against them like… Continue reading another bright sunday

a poem about making sense of life

AGAIN MIDNIGHT Through a thousand espresso mornings I’ve waited for life to make sense of a heap of melted problems; now I sit dealing out my tattered tarot of strangled, bleeding bank statements, losing lottery tickets and tiny scraps of paper holding phone numbers without names, putting the question over and over to the soggy… Continue reading a poem about making sense of life

a poem about regrets

THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW You must know how it feels by now, when all that’s left are the bars where we drank from long, cool glasses; when all the lazy weekend hours that we built up into jutting totems and soothing fetish objects have drifted out like coiling vapours through the cracks in life’s hinges.… Continue reading a poem about regrets

the town of retired war criminals

As you walk along the wide slow street at dusk you see him sitting in his chair; sometimes he waves, warding off questions with one hand while calmly taking notes with the other for an alternative history of everything. If masks could make us tell the truth, then his would still be hung behind the… Continue reading the town of retired war criminals