Beyond your window, the drooling stars twizzle on their strings. They proclaim: all hail the monkey god. All hail the bollock-headed god of the ripe and arbitrary. The god of late-night radio phone-ins, microplastics and no-cheese pizza.
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Babylonia I am as close to the start as I am to the end. So these are my instructions. And I can’t hear you, anywhere. And weather takes place in the home. Smudge glass to gaze through glass. Clean every view. Grow root crops, quiet, in the garden. Keep an empty-ish glade, snot-toned pollen, a
Grown-ups drinking with friends – a barbecue in may. it’s the first summer weekend since we got the back garden to host in. meat moist as soap on a plate by the grill. I laid it out. we bought too many sausages stickered in lidl and cheap. and too many cheap beers – people always
they all write so well,
but then, they have space
to stretch out in. american
poets have it better
than anyone else. all that undiscovered
country could make anyone
make anything so easily. all that sky…
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Reporter Notes for the Artisanal Vendor of the Year Contest 8:08 Just arrived at Portland Expo Center. Inaugural “Artisanal Vendor of the Year” contest starting in less than an hour. Looks like I’m the only journo here. 8:16 Trouble early on. Bouncer [upper body attire: WWII spitfire pilot; lower body attire: psychedelic troubadour] charged at
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all the tiny mouths There must have been hundreds of them, maybe thousands, but only on the one wall. They fit their small, black bodies closely together by pointing their wings upward, displaying the light tangerine colour beneath. In this way, they painted the wall a warm triptych that made her think of fall and
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And The Oscar Goes to… 1994 – Cher Dorothy Chandler Pavilion Bathroom Attendant 3 strands black/curly/synthetic The hairs flash like a beacon on the bathroom’s white marble tiles. I wrap them in a square of toilet paper and slide them into my uniform pocket. While the who’s who celebrate at their glitzy after-parties, I limp
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A Real Stand-Up Guy The green room at LMAO is not really a room at all. It’s a 10 x 20 foot space sectioned off from backstage by musty drapery that often overlaps, making entry or escape a difficult endeavor. Yet, in either witty taste or cheapskate irony, the curtains are all green. At one
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In Technicolor Content advisory (highlight to see): sexual assault My cup— Runneth over, Psalm 23:5. But no, not in a bar. —sweats fat droplets of condensation onto the bartop. I run a fingernail along a scar in the wood, adjusting the cardboard coaster. A bear peers up through the amber liquid. I should google bears.
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bird brains Anthea Jones Anthea Jones lives in Brisbane, Australia and writes quirky fiction and screenplays. This is much easier now she has annexed the kids’ cubby house and banished the spiders and geckoes. She is the recipient of a Fishbowl Residency from the Queensland Writers’ Centre and a scholarship to Stowe Story Labs at
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