Tuesday, 20 June 2017

Thursday, 8 June 2017

The Fem



about Berlin and breakups and the lake at Teufelsee.

Tuesday, 30 May 2017

WORD-O-MAT



They're going to make a tiny book of my story and put it in this cigarette machine!

Dicktwitch


Lovely poem about a lovely creature, now at Slink Chunk Press! <3

Wednesday, 10 May 2017

Return Flight



I have an essay about home and belonging in this amazing project from Melbourne, alongside dear lovelies such as Ryan Van Winkle and Nick Holdstock...

Tuesday, 2 May 2017

Commuting

I am in this gorgeous new journal from New Zealand!


With a story about a magical immortal pervert with a serious penchant for mannequins. Pick up a copy here!

Sunday, 30 April 2017

30. HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE A PARAKEET TO TURN TO DUST?

If you want to be
immortal, stick a
wax mould all around

your bones and take the
temperature when the moon
is full. Is it better

to be hollow or just
the skeleton inside—are you
more afraid of emptiness

or losing your edge? Without
enamel, we’re all just parakeets
turning to dust, but if I wrote

my name in stitches
in your skin, would it hold
you together? We’re all just

hags in the morning,
shimmering and unslept,
but like most things that don’t

sleep, we don't have a
beginning. Mostly, we're
without an end as well.

Saturday, 29 April 2017

29. A FLAMING GARLAND

The heart is a flaming garland &
like all rings of fire, it is a tough

thing to step through. To step through
the heart takes courage of a gentle kind.

If you can make a lion purr by the scritch
of a fingernail, you are halfway there.

The lion's tongue lolls when it pads down
a path of pencil shavings, all the way

to the story in the woods. Sometimes
it's hard to tell the difference between

leaves and lies but both crackle when
you take a match to them. The heart

is flaming above all things.