July 30, 2020

Rick shoo-ed Julie towards the door, passing the coffee in her favourite cup and—with a moment’s hesitation—her pack of cigarettes. ‘You go take a break, Jools.’

      A slight sheen glistened on her brow. Anticipation and excitement fueled her preparations for this sp...

June 5, 2020


Mon pays ce n’est pas un pays, c’est l’hiver

My country is not a country, it’s the winter

--Gilles Vigneault

Edmonton, Alberta

The car was their symbol of hope, what they’d strived for in the years since they left the rubble...

                            YARRA VALLEY WRITERS' FESTIVAL BECKONS

I'm sitting at home, quarantined and thinking...not possible...I can't si...

February 15, 2020

I grieve a blighted country

A land of franking credits *

Of toxic sexist comments

Of greedy lying twits

I grieve their cyber-fake and fears

I grieve the lost good name

The wasted young, the working poor

The howls of: shame shame shame

I’d love a cooler country

A land of visiona...

The New Normal

is quiet --

Quiet as the eucalyptus forest 

after the firestorm,

after the loss of koala, kangaroo, birdsong,

and after the Murray-Darling shrivels, shrinks, subsides --

its once-languorous vein stretches tangled and dry.

Instead, upon its heat-cracked bed, 


So, at the last minute, Scottie our PM, graciously bestows his benevolence upon his subjects: a bulk fire-fighting package. We're talking: $$$, aircraft and personnel, all dispensed without any consultation or planning. Thousands of untrained army reserves promised ---...

January 2, 2020

“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn’d / 

Nor hell a fury like a woman scorn’d.” - William Congreve

Brandishing the newspaper, Medea swept down Melbourne’s grungy Gertrude Street on that hot sticky December morning. She could think of a lot of things she’d like t...

A Winter Selection of Short Stories

On Saturday October 12th, the Belgian Beer Cafe at Southbank set the scene. Storytellers from the Melbourne World Writers' Collective took the spotlight and story-loving enthusiasts came along to celebrate our great new anthology.  


September 22, 2019


“Another child abducted. This time murdered. They found her in the woods. Been interfered with. And those others, one stuffed down a well and another in a cupboard. Awful. Imagine doing that to them,” the paper rustled violently in their grandmother’s hands.


“We are all visitors to this time, this place.  We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to love… and then we return home.” - Aboriginal proverb.


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