Category: Descriptive

      (1997. This one won a competition once, in West Gippsland…) The morning paper blows in the street. No one no   longer able to read the words that flow from page   to page like so much graffiti scrawled from fence post   to junction-box. Adults hide....

looking,    looking across the floor    drifting, shifting in the disco fog    and dim light  eyes that speak desire,    mouths that mouth, “…on fire!”    hands and lips, that tease, please,    entice… (like ice on nipples bare) dancing,    talking, touching under the    table,...

       (1997. HICS: Hero In CyberSpace – redefining the self-image of all self-professed hicks*) I curse the daylight and fight to remain    awake while others are doing the RL    thing. Give me the night and a fast, tight line    to my provider. A sharp,...

(1989. Working with Irish Triads of a similar name, to explore techniques.) Three excellent qualities in naration: a good flow, depth of thought, conciseness. Three dislikable qualities in the same: stiffness, obscurity, bad delivery. Three things that are always ready in a decent man’s house: beer, a shower, a good TV....

(1990. Whilst walking hungover? along St.Kilda Road at 9 am.) The street gleams with its dirty coat of dust and rubbish and exhaust fumes, like a fat and sweaty bloke walking too fast. My stomach turns as though to be sick: a moment that passes swiftly, leaving me, trembling and not...

(1999. Exploring perceived conflicts between city and country folk.) There’s something hidden under the tranquility of a grazing pasture. something not seen, in the quiet battle between grass and bovines nor in the slow reach of pasture for the sky before it becomes silage or hay. Can you feel...

(1999. Computer Rage) I rage and boil deep inside seething with illiterate anger that no words can sensibly express and why? Why am I so torn and knotted and empty and tormented ––– arms that don’t move smoothly, hands tremble and shake and abandon all former dexterity, legs… like...

(1988, Rainy Day, The Rose Garden, GIAE, Churchill, Vic. Aust.) Icy sheets of foaming, windswept droplets fall heavily from the sky onto a sodden path. A passer-by scurries in the drenching breeze, along a covered cause-way into a sheltered alcove… and begins a lone vigil –––      ...

(Wilsons Promentory, VIc. Australia, 1 March 1988) A fire-lit night among scattered trees with only the whisper of a gentle breeze disturbing the crackling air; A crisp freshness is biting at fingers and toes toasting near a campfire which glows beside a weather-worn tent; A world-weary stockman inclines his...

(1987, at the typewriter. In response to a challenge issued by R. Jepsen of Bairnsdale.)  The first thing you see even before that firm and friendly shake are those hands; Large, slightly caloused, softened by machine-cooled air and the constant caress of a silver stick of plastic and ink;...