Rock, Ball
A two-year-old wobbles wilfully onto a pont of land
poetry
Big Yellow Oxen
on their way to the sugar cane mill
The Wisdom, Mrs Chung
My estranged Chinese neighbour broke our silent truce
Because
You sit in a room filled with people you know
That August at the coast
That August at the coast
A Daguerreotype of a House in Snowed Country
A hue of yellow light
Wallace Stevens Dreams of Bones
At the paupers' graves, the children have come to play
Fetish
because winter light is thesaurus to the lonely
Roots
Spring makes winter terrible, every hollow aches for green. In Emily
10%
Ten months since her mother died. It was this time last year when the doctors
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
