Tag Archives: catastrophe

ping… aaargh!

There is no face-mask for the brain,
no analgesic for this pain,
no way to keep at bay
the assaults of every day.
I try to isolate my mind,
from infection of this kind –
but each axis-of-idiocy hit,
fills my inbox with more shit.


This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but with a ping… Time to turn the laptop off and go outside! 


Filed under poem

look up

You woskyuldn’t believe me if
I painted a sky this blue
But look up – there it is –
and every day it’s new.


With the last six months of drought, fires and then COVID, and now the current unrest in the US and the protests in Australia too, I find I’m turning more and more to my immediate surroundings for reassurance that the world is not ending.
Growing up in Melbourne, my prevailing childhood memory of the sky is drizzling grey. In the southern tablelands of NSW (away from the brown exhalations of Canberra) the sky seems to be almost always an astonishing clear deep blue – especially in winter. It surprises me and brings me joy every day.   

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Filed under musings, poem

the great homebrew crash of 2020

Twenty-four bottles of beer on the floor,
Twenty-four bottles of beer,
They fell down the stairs,
Now there’s glass everywhere,
Twenty-four bottles of beer on the floor. Continue reading


Filed under poem