Tonight, while my children sleep,
I'll walk out of the house...

For some, it starts with tea.
Tea slows you. You wait...

Purple was there first
in the thudding darkness...

Van Gogh is in Melbourne
so here I am finding myself...

It becomes an art
to shout under your breath...

I
You're our intimate stranger...

I like to watch my father chopping vegetables,
maybe for a Sunday stir fry or a hot lamb curry...

Mad winds throw dead leaves
toward trees that quiver with...

To our left, sea. To our right, desert dunes.
You light a cigarette, a tiny torch in the dark. I...

It's my birthday
I'm in my bathtub...

Fear not the morning fart, my sweeting,
though its stench be foul, its noise is bright...

We water the seeds each day. Each day we
watch the cautious creep of green...