Category: Past issues

Gaps, Gifts and the Grind: Reflections on the Writing Process   Last year I wrote a memoir, and this year I finished it off – well nearly. I’m having a little gap from working on it at the moment. And having a ‘little’ gap, I’ve discovered, is part of my…

The Ride   Chloe loves the ride home from work. Zooming down the Brooklyn Hill is a great way to blow the day away, and because she is on her bike, there are no traffic jams to wind her up again. She likes the way she feels. Today is a…

Three Questions   Q. Kia ora. Firstly, I was wondering where you get your ideas? A. There’s this flat in Seddon Street. It has a long gravel drive fenced off with sheets of iron on both sides. Outside the front steps a dandelion and a metal bin, straight inside the…

1 | 2 Halo around the sun    The librarian’s face is a lagoon. My hesitation sends a wave across the water. How long will you stay? she asks. When did you arrive?   * It is three days since my ei proclaimed me as a visitor, creamy flowers scenting…

1 | 2 Lavanda per Viviana   terra   Viviana watches lavender for the first strike of colour, waits for heads to fill with petals. Late in ripeness she takes her garden scissors, severs the stalks, walks away unable to hide the loss.   aria   Viviana breathes lavender in…

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 Sunday morning, city cafe   Busy place. Alone with coffee, music, glances. People on the pavement pass, their shadows meet.  Strutting pigeons, tossed crumbs.   A fan belt squeal, indicator and high revs, the driver tousles her hair in the mirror,…

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 Lake Okareka   Voices across Lake Okareka from waterskiers a kilometre away. I am half in love with this place already the boardwalk to myself, thick wooded hills steeply   down to the water’s edge, the constant burble and call of…

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 What a certain song on the radio brings   The ripe odour of plums in a round red bowl.   And living with Greeks in Sydney in the seventies. In the heat of the kitchen the women cook, smoke,…

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 Togo Chasm III   Delicate moon, a yellow thief that steals the night. Immense light waxing each leaf, each stone.   Claws scuttle and scrape and break the brittle bones of trees. Swarms descend in a mesh of sound…

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 Togo Chasm II   Alongside Brancusi spires I am heeled and scuffed in time names impressed upon me on the way to Togo chasm.   A tent maker in sandals threads his pearls in philosophic quatrains. Carl…