When I Was a Lass
After Gilbert & Sullivan’s “When I Was a Lad” from H.M.S. PinaforeA Satirical Ballad in Seventeen Stanzas— 1 —When I was a lass I served a termAs a fish-and-chip girl…
After Gilbert & Sullivan’s “When I Was a Lad” from H.M.S. PinaforeA Satirical Ballad in Seventeen Stanzas— 1 —When I was a lass I served a termAs a fish-and-chip girl…
A Poem in Seven Counts Against the Man Who Believed in Nothing“My mother did it tough. She raised me in public housing.That’s why I fight for people who are doing…
One nation? Yes – but wide as all its peoples, deep as the Dreaming, old as the first rain.
Before the word sorry was even possible, the country already knew what had been taken ...
After Oscar Wilde's Salomé – – –The court is lit with torchlight and imported wine.Herod sweats beneath his crown of compromise. Once – this is the part he doesn't say…
I am old. Older than the names they gave me,
Destruction of Palestinian artefacts and books, including the places of learning, are core features of genocide.
That is the wound that does not close — to love a place that is choosing, deliberately, with its eyes open, to be less than it was, less than it could be ...
After “Avenues and Alleyways” – Tony Christie (1973)Sleep like a baby,My little lady,Dream till the sunriseCreeps into your eyes,Dream till the sunrise turns on the day.Oligarchs and imbeciles – While…
She storms through rallies like a queen of the lost,and something in the crowd completes the circuit – not stupidity, not theatre, but a costlong owed, long felt, finally given…
I. The Upper RoomThey gathered where the lamplight held the night at bay,and bread was broken gently into willing hands.A teacher poured out wine as dark as fading day,and love…
A Round on the Ownership of the World(after Frère Jacques)"How can a god give what a god does not have?– and what has god ever possessed, that was not first…
Accounts from the First World War demonstrate that even in the hells of the trenches humanity was not completely lost.
Between the Glyde’s brown pull and the Arafura’s breath,where saltpan cracks like sentences half-said,I walk the country that was old before our clocks,and learn to read a language without thread.The…