Alice Wanderer began writing poetry after developing an interest in haiku while living in Japan. She has published two chapbook collections, Flow (Ginniderra Press, 2023) and She Wants to See Birds and Flowers (which won the Snapshot Press, UK chapbook contest in 2024). Lips Licked Clean, a translation of a selection of haiku by Sugita Hisajo was published by Red… Continue reading

Finished StoryGraph tells me you’ve recently finished reading The Price of Salt. I text you to discuss the book and the works of Patricia Highsmith but really, it’s all a thinly veiled way to start a conversation that can lead into me asking whether or not we’re still dating. You don’t text me back. You… Continue reading

The AI Poet Laureate i. AI_ Laureate (AI_L) started up as an onlineCreative writing DIY kitbot rendering rapid linesAnd stanzas for English assignments to hand in on time;Noted by contemporary bots as a Post-modern McGonagallOf unstoppableDoggerel, wannabe rhymester + free verse récidiviste But like a cry baby killer, AI_Laureate confessed to the studentsIts programming neglected… Continue reading

Breadcrumbs (noun) bred-krəms So, this is the way it is. I am a pigeon begging for crumbs from your pastrami, pickle & cream cheese on rye. One day I might grow teeth and bite off enough to sustain me.   Ho—I am a bitch: a toy strung along on a short leash. Ridiculous plaything— plastic… Continue reading

Witness of all the photos I have of you (truthfullyI don’t have them at all – they’re stranded in an oldphone gathering dust on a shelf in a cupboardin my spare room) I think mostabout the one where you’re standing beneath a great gum’scanopy, your back bent backwards though only to get a better view… Continue reading

Camera Obscura If dawn breaks, night remakes it.A thrifty housewife, night recyclesreflected sunlight, presents the world –inverted – across a tarpaulin sky. The Sun is a fool, mistakes twitchesin dreams for cadavers’ death spasms,wastes morning light warmingstill-breathing bodies back to life. Devotees of darkness know dayis a scheme; sweat-slick fever dream.The simpleton Sun supposes Satanspeaks… Continue reading

meanwhile, the hurricane.we sit in discomfort,there’s a windowwith no view ofthe future, or evenacross the street.there’s an afterglow,but it’s after angry sex sonobody found satisfaction.meanwhile, the hurricane rages. there’s little to talk aboutand much to decide, butconfiding how haunted yourvoice sounds in my headwill not assuage anything.instead i tell himi struggle with thingsthat are just… Continue reading

The coming downpour I learned later, shivering in a December a world away,that I’d never known the harshness of winter,only the short, sudden downpours that stunted trafficand the mist in the park seen through the clouded windscreenand lifting off the dew in the widening of the morning.On the road to Manji, the jarrahs hid the… Continue reading

apparently it’s up to us. it’s our job. to ring the offices of every politician we can. if any are taking calls. unlike the office of the Australian PM. if any are responding to emails. unlike the office of the PM. it’s up to us. to save the planet. to throw our bodies before bulldozers.… Continue reading

Wheel of I Kaleidoscope in the corner of my frame of reference, turningConstant motion contained in herfigure. Panels of mirrorin the wash cycleReflecting rotating patterns, on Auto Each of six My historian of the innards hasshining breathThe historian of my Tucked in, the other side of bedShe’s gems,resting on my mattressUnder creased sheets and duvetBack… Continue reading