to you, Dad

It’s a hot day, sweaty, it’s somebody’s birthday, I don’t know who’s. I can’t remember, but given it’s so hot, I reckon it’s my little sister’s. Yes, it’s only September but this is Queensland. I sit on the front steps of our house. My nose is bleeding, hot days bring blood noses, and the blood has…

o’ brother, who are you?

Fatherhood seems to be a coat you shrug yourself into. It’s heavy, this coat, it’s navy-expensive and wool-warm, fresh off the rack, the coat is starchy. It will mould itself to the shape of its wearer in time. The coat of fatherhood is thick, you’ve got to stand tall to wear it properly. Pockets-deep, stiff…

i must have a thing about his hair

here are two ‘poems’ for SKJ, the first one was written before he went to kindergarden, and the second one was written the week before he went into grade six The Flame Haired Beastie It’s vicious; it’s got claws, and a survival instinct nothing could tear through. It’s heartless, leaving a king-tide of demolition in…

mother love is a great big love

Man, I used to be dumb, so dumb, or to be kinder, naive. Honestly, what was the point of a wide vocabulary when you walked around as thick as I was? About a thousand years ago, I was contemplating a second baby and the biggest reason I didn’t want to go there was I doubted I had…