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  • Walk tall, kick ass, learn to speak Arabic, love music and never forget you come from a long line of truth seekers, lovers and warriors. - HS Thompson.

He Was Just Some Joseph Looking For A Manger.

If I could bottle up the sea breeze I would take it over to your house And pour it loose through your garden So the hinges on your windows would rust and colour Like the boats pulled up on the sand for the summer And your sweet clean clothes would go stiff on the line … Continue reading

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The Penultimate.

I traipse up the hill, then down again after finishing work, to meet a friend. I take the main streets. I walk on the road. I phone a friend. My clammy body smells of a double shift, on my feet again, muscles sore from yoga and hospitality. It’s a nice kind of pain. An honest … Continue reading

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My Lady Can Sleep.

Celeste has been using my computer and pinching all my blogging time. Because of this, all you get is this– My lady can sleep from ‘The Spice-Box of Earth.’ My lady can sleep Upon a handkerchief Or if it be Fall Upon a fallen leaf. I have seen the hunters kneel before her hem Even … Continue reading

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All The Wisdom I Have Gleaned I Owe Entirely To LSD.

I have grown bored of my environment. No one knows much more than me anymore. I’m seldom stumped by a sentence. In fact, I couldn’t even tell you when that happened last. I couldn’t. While All the junkies think they’re jedi’s. And All the academics think they’re writers. The small business owners are motivated largely … Continue reading

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New Skin For The Old Ceremony.

Hey, look at all these– http://www.leonardcohen.com/music.html Now for sleep, sleep, sleep. x.

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Clucky Much.

There are children in the morning They are leaning out for love And they will lean that way forever… – Leonard Cohen (Suzanne.) A beautiful couple came in to work tonight to eat. He was so lovely, tending to all her allergies, taking good care of her. She was in her final trimester. She was … Continue reading

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Overtime.

I’ve just finished work. I’ve got a blocked right ear and really sunburned titties. What’s your excuse? I loved you when our love was blessed and I love you now there’s nothing left but sorrow and a sense of overtime. And I missed you since the place got wrecked, and I just don’t care what … Continue reading

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In Business And In Art.

I wrote a lovely poem this afternoon, sitting at a cafe in Surry Hills. I was going to post it here tonight but have since decided, for professional reasons, not to. So. Instead. I proffer a poem of Leonard’s. As I’m feeling kinda loved up at the minute. Really loved up, in fact. It’s nice. … Continue reading

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Movin’ On Up.

“‘Cause my heart is a muscle. And simply put, it’s sore…” – Ani DiFranco. So. A few wee adjustments in the last 76 hours. Life is hard. Let’s be honest. More so, I have come to realise, when you care. I don’t really feel like writing at all tonight. I’ve got this big, gawd awful … Continue reading

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To A Teacher.

Hurt once and for all into silence. A long pain ending without a song to prove it. Who could stand beside you so close to Eden, When you glinted in every eye the held-high razor, shivering every ram and son? And now the silent loony bin, where The shadows live in the rafters like Day-weary … Continue reading

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