Seven languages, five authors, five translators, two self-translators. Stories, poems and experiments in, between and from Gamilaraay, Georgian, Indonesian and more.Read More
Dear reader, if you want
to know me, listen to my poems.
I no longer hear their melody.
You can have these words, if you wait.
Skaut didn’t reply. He looked at the two local policemen, who could do nothing but return his confused gaze. Then he looked around at the faces of the dozens of villagers who stood regarding him hopefully, as if he was some sort of liberating prophet sent into their midst by God.Read More
I looked out the window, across the lake to the flag fluttering above Capital Hill. The size of a double-decker bus, the guide had said. Four graceful shards of modern stainless steel marking the ‘centre of the nation’ – how much I’d wanted to work there, once upon a time.Read More
I don't know about you, dear friend
but life keeps biting me with its beastly teeth
and there's nothing left to do
but bite back
I wrote some clumsy lyrics explaining why I do what I do. Words saying why I am what I am. It’s reassuring, trying to convince strangers you’re not such a bad guy, or trying to get them to see that they understand fuck all about your life.Read More
Yellow wattle's been jutting out
from the navels of the house
a foreign city has
the feel of bees
a chilli white sky
Calling on all emerging translators!Read More