posted on June 12, 2019 at 9:06 pm

there they are

dad took us to see the film

only there was no real film

oh yes there was a screen

there was a screen with a sort of blurry moving painting

there was a story

but it wasn’t much of a story either

there was no story to be told

but dad said sssh its everyones story

its not my bloody story you whispered under your sweet breath

but then you realised yes it was your story

the story of you and every you ever

a meaningless dreamy miasma of your deepest souled lives

this then was us and everybody there even those not watching the screen

we realise we are not part of this as the audience

the film has jumped out of the screen and included us

thats made me feel strange dad… I said

sssh..! said dad can’t you two be quiet..?

we watch on as the dismal crackly film thing starts up

it  is a sour English summer afternoon

only its not England

its somebody idea of England who’s never been there

a stupid made up England

with too much strange vegetation and recorded bird song

and the grey bitter sky for that summer afternoon

as the old professor and black cat trudge along

a lane hemmed in with old bricks bursting with bloom

old weary man his prime long ago carrying his suitcase

seen so much better days in a dreamlike past that never really happened

what did it all mean now..? as he trod the silent road to his next show

the black cat walked along at his side the size of a small panther

she was as tired as her old master too

and she half heartedly chased small woodland creatures away

what is it girl ? the professor would mutter

as they headed deeper into an unwelcoming afternoon

as they walked in a place that had no time

we had no more time now

oh I began to see

its good… dad said to us in a whisper

sssh… said someone behind us

I hope the cat can talk… you said to dad then

maybe she I can I don’t know of course not… said dad

sssh!… said someone in front of us

the old professor

professor of what..? I wondered

professor of something though anyway… the whole audience thought

yes he’s got the old black dusty suit and a crumpled hat

hey you..! I said… give me some of those chocolates..

give him some of the chocolates… dad hissed at you and I smiled

and then

please just watch the bloody film… he implored us

sssssh! said some behind us

oh shuttup.. said dad over his shoulder

meanwhile the old professor and his rather large cat trudged on towards wherever they were going

sometimes it seemed they were on some old train

or riding along on a horse drawn cart

but I rubbed my eyes…

hey wake up! dad said… you’re falling asleep

it didn’t seem to matter if you were awake or asleep for this film anyway

in my day dream I was the old professor and I had been walking along forever

sometimes I grumbled to the cat about things

that last bloody hotel, kitten

they doubled charged us for my tomato soup

I searched through my pockets for money

they were full of strange bits and pieces

little machines and diagrams and yes there was some money

but what a strange faded currency it was

the coins nearly worn smooth

the notes all wrinkled and ripped

who was that sad king staring out in shade of palest grey..?

well how about that..?

one minute im just a boy watching a film

next minute im the old professor walking along with the black cat

as I grumble the cat sits and listens and with her body she indicates agreement or disagreement

when I tell her ive lost my bloody glasses too

she walks away dismissively until groping my forehead oh no ha ha

I had them on all the time

my head is bursting with stuff

all the meaningless blah blah blah of mathematics and literature

all those stupid paintings and symphonies and architectural blueprints

all those flying machines and gas lamps and mechanical squeezers

what did any of it avail him now..?

the black cat the afternoon the road the hedge the wall the puddles

the beginning of a light cold rain

the cat runs into a graveyard at the side of the road

oh no kitten no come out of there… says the old professor

as the cat jumps between the weeds and cracked angels

all the faded names on  the broken stones

the names of everyone watching the film

the camera dwells on all the names

how I envy the dead.. someone sighs

someone else says shhhh!

dad squeezed your hand

its only a film.. he said

they walk on down the road as the afternoon never changes

grumble grumble grumble

no they never fixed that hole up did they, kitten…?

and my goodness every time it rained well I got a letter from the library

it said that I never returned that book but I did

look I have the slip in my pocket don’t I …?

they just say anything and expect you to pay don’t they

they must think we were born yesterday.. he said

as he reached into his pockets looking for things

I was sure the film must be nearly over when they finally got to wherever it was they were going

when I thought about it later

I wasn’t sure if it was a stately little castle

or a rowdy inn full of beastly villains

or if it was a door in a tree

but there they were

here they are

no here we are

we sat down at a table and they brought us out some food

yes kitten yes I know you’re hungry too…as I popped a piece of cake into her mouth

the people in that place are weird and frightening dad…you whispered

yes well im sure they are supposed to be…dad whispered back

everyone in the place looked like some kind of animal

there were men who looked like goats and pigs

and disgusting spidery women

and  the  old lady that looked like a sheep plonked  down a mug of dark ale

the old professor lets the black cat lick at the foam

yes yes you were a thirsty little cat weren’t you kitten he mutters

the cat looks up from her lapping

and for a moment her foamy whiskers make the old professor laugh

a laugh which turns into an awful wheezing cough

a big rough looking man with a jutting jaw sits down opposite

I’m you’re fuckin’ ‘ospitality manager he grunts unsmilingly

what animal is he supposed to be…you whispered

a bull I think I said

dad butted in …oh really I thought he was a kind of a camel

we both giggled at this

yet at the moment he just looked like some awful old man

eat your cakes drink your beer and then lets ‘ave some fuckin’ music please squire

the old professor scowled at the man

I certainly hope your piano is in tune sir… the old professor said in his most aloof accent

my fuckin’ piano (he pronounced it piana) is so in tune you won’t fuckin’ believe it.. said the man

anyway we’ve ‘ad much more popular acts play here than you and none of’ ’em complained

oh yes..? I said and the old professor said it at the same time as me

and which acts are you referring to that are more popular than us..?

‘ere you got tickets on yourself ‘avent you..said the man

but last week we had Lucy Crow appearing with the Birches

at this remark the cat hissed

and the old professor said in indignation

but surely sir that act is a juggling act and therefore does not use the piano

I didn’t say they used it..the man said

I said they never complained

there seemed little to be argued about

the old professor was defeated

all this way to be talked to like that …he said to the cat

who blinked her eyes and shook her head in agreement

this crowded miserable inn

in an inn and in and in muttered the old professor

alright he says and where is the artists changing rooms

im afraid the artist changing rooms are under renovation

and therefore you can just go straight on from here…said the man

airs and bloody graces …exclaims the man shaking his big rough head

I give you five minutes and on you go..! the man said and got up and walked away

the old professor sat there glumly sipping at his ale

with his other hand he stroked the cats head

bloody idiots the lot of them,  kitten

I blame myself but they’re still all idiots

the black cat did not react but licked her paws and rubbed her face

I told the man who sold us our umbrella and he knew who I was

I mean who I am of course ha ha

his muttered rant is drowned in the din of the inn

but in my mind I can hear his voice go on and on

his list of grievances against the world at large

the price of butter

the shortness of breath

the long wait for summer and then rain

if only I could get properly warm

the damn nettles and the damn little stones in my shoe

and then

and then it was time to go on

a tiny little stage with an upright piano

and crimson worn out curtains

theres a table onstage with some gin and a vase of flowers

the cat sits behind the piano

we can’t see this clearly because of the film

but she can somehow play the piano

and she plays scales up and down and tries out little phrases

but it is the strangest music you have ever heard

I like it… I said

oh I don’t… you said

as the cat played the piano the old professor began to sing

and this was his song

oh snake in a ditch 

elusive and rich 

the loveliest venom which causes the twitch

and the worm and the toad that goad you to fold

the silence of rats that gnawed in the cold 

(at this line the cat did a flourish and growled )

you feathery thing Im standing here singing for you 

the blackberries thorns and the bunions and corns 

the damp pulse of your heart 

the wiry start to your flight 

take me to where you hibernate 

because im oh so tired and its oh so late

lost in a fog on a dog of an afternoon 

(again the cat growled)

I dream of a stream with the life of a bream

close to the earth or deep in the ground

where all truth is to be found

the old professor left off singing and did a little dance

the cat played on with a kind of three four waltz

but the chords were never the ones you were expecting

and I felt breathless trying to keep up with whatever the music was supposed to be

but then you suddenly understood a few seconds later but it was too late

his dance was awkward and weird

he seemed out of sync with himself and the music

the audience cheered and roared and some seemed to turn into the animals they were

the old sheep lady walked around with her tray of beer

and she haggled with the drinkers in her bleating voice

when the song was over the audience exploded into applause

seems the idiots like us… the old professor muttered in the cats ear

she began the second song

oh but it went on for so long and before long I was hypnotised

the croaky voice of the old man

his words about eels and cranes and the rate at which red roses wilt

and the fields and the woods and the biggest city he’d ever seen

trees aflame in arctic nights

and falling stars that shot across your sleepy sky

the wonderful whirl of slumber

the bark of the oak the purr of the fir

the voice of the leaves that says your name in your dream

the song and film suddenly stop

the screen  is a black oblong accompanied by the soft whirr of the projector

after about 10 seconds the old professor and the cat appear

the colour is different somehow and they both look a little changed

the old professor strokes the cats head

you’ve been such a good girl… he mumbles as he falls asleep

such a good such a good girl

the cat sits on the bed for awhile

before we see her jump out of the open window onto the rooftops and away

the credits roll

a sad orchestra crackle out a theme

the lights come on

dad just sits there in his seat

oh boy I fell asleep.. he says

it was the morning and they were leaving.. dad said

what happened then..?

we looked at each other

and we turned and followed him out of the cinema














posted on December 31, 2018 at 5:00 pm


after the soy turkey is cut and the elderberry juice is put away

me and the twinnies frolicking on a sandbar out in the aqua sea

I have a vodka n orange juice with Adam in the green shade

people everywhere talk talk talk

so many people down at the beach

as the day goes long I fall into my dream

they all say hello to me tho most em aren’t sure who I am

voice in another room: who are you again..?

the water is effervescent and refreshing

eve and aurora are such lovely kids

the wind whistles in my dripping earrings

the sun burns down on pale English skin

ghosts of Christmas pass

if ever a man was drowning on dry land

my mind pulls me under

the universe in a drop of ocean water

life in a tiny second

hey man I met you at the state

some nice bloke with his kids

and you are..? I say

im no-one mate honestly 

I look out at the azurest coast

my hourglass daughters patiently tanning in the fading light

merry Christmas 

says the bloke and wanders away

so many stupid tattoos everywhere

the sand is soft and warm to my sensitive soles

the dream comes on then

I look around in wonder at it all

the sea the people the red Santa hats

its Christmas in my dreamy old dream

it takes on an anecdotal vignette quality

with everything set to ‘glow’

I musta seen a million Christmases by now

the swirling currents and the salty smell

always the girls lying in the sand and I’m talking to some geezer

the music plays on in my head

rings on in my ears

Christmas on Bondi beach

there is great variety

stunning Adonis youths from some euro winter strut arrogantly

lithe mermaids crash into pasty couch potatoes

the biblical looking guys kicking the balls

their female companions are all manicured n dyed queens of Sheba

I stop for awhile in the shade in a glade off the beach

where the twisted sea trees grow

what do I know

im dreaming it all up in my fevered night

the mosquitos whine

the cockroaches grind

the ants whispering in a procession across the floor

I banged me knee into something in the dark

the serpent in the tree says come hither to me

the leopard in my head says leave em for dead

sleep is elusive for a genius sometimes and for me too

I seep out of myself and rise up through the sky

down on earth my body walks around without a soul

the mind is control

I go into shop and I cop some  free sweets from a lolly jar

I meet my friend the rising star he knows who you are

hes on tv a few times a week

down on Neptune street we walk to his flat

he lives with some French chick and her cat

I stand out on that lovely deck and gaze at the cloudy night

its brilliance and stupidity inside of me having a fight

you can see my pool from here a green soft glimmer in the moon

soon midnight has come and gone and the ocean is still

we go to a Christmas party just up the road in Oberon street

its a big house with a lamplit garden with a crowd spilling out of the house

theres loads of famous people here the newsreader and the crims they never catch

theres the guys who plays drums with that big band that comes from overseas

theres that actress star of stage and screen she’s been on holiday in Viet Nam

I am gonna get an introduction i suppose after all she uses my song in one of her shows

some people drinking and jumping in the pool

no im at home in my bed and im sleeping

no now its New Years eve

Coogee is inundated with a million dodgy looking little types

carrying slabs of beer

while all around the signs flash ZERO ALCOHOL

the sea temp is cold

so a thousand tourists sit there not daring to go in

the fireworks tonite yawn

I only liked fireworks when I was lighting em and doing something stupid

but it’ll be same old rockets same old explosion

same old crowd going ooooh ahhhhh

same old claustrophobic being in the middle of a load drunken yobbos

bah fucking humbug again

come on midnight

let all the Hoi Polloi get home safely

until next year



your roving hero and reporter

more Bloggs in 19 4 sure


31 dec 2018








posted on November 16, 2018 at 7:07 pm


when I woke up the air in the caravan was sacredly still

Kathy had slipped outta bed without waking me

it was slightly raining outside

I lay there listening thru my damaged ears

only making out the faintest pitter patter through the ringing on of 5000 gigs

I looked at the objects she had collected from the shoreline

I smiled as I realised the significance of each thing

and why she had chosen this shell from a plethora of shells

why she had picked up that little bit of smooth green glass

she had arranged the objects like a garden on the window sill

god it was still and quiet this morning

in the early morning rain everything was hushed

the sea crashing on the shore muted in the thick rainy air

I sat there eating a bowl of cornflakes with rice milk n Manuka honey

I was in my cut off jeans and t.rex t-shirt

the rain stopped

when I went outside she was sitting in her deck chair reading an old newspaper

ha ha she said i’m reading an interview with this actor

and he’s saying that he’s so happy with his new wife and he thinks this is the one

and it’ll surely last forever..

and..? I said

well they broke up a month after he said all this stuff…she smiled sadly

and tilted her head on one side questioningly before a soft sigh appeared and was gone

she shrugged her shoulders and sorta squinted at me


we both shook our heads

she was dressed in my white shirt that was old and very big on her

as some crickets started up somewhere in the bush

and a crow called cawing up in the air

next to the beach was a system of little rivulets that we would wander

a helicopter flew overhead momentarily shattering our idyll

the sky was warm and humid and overcast

dreamy dreamy days passing in a watercolour hazy place

the residue of memory other times other places

the sweet snow that falls upon us as you sleep

the startled egrets that suddenly lift

the shadow of remorse that dogs all people not just me n you

we sat on the banks of a stream

it was not possible to know where the sun was in that sky

the nimbus hung down like a cosmic blanket softening everything

the still water was dark occasionally disturbed by some fishes ripple

there were flowers blooming in colours out of a Childs paintbox

there were dragonflies and languid bees

I sat with my arm around her shoulders

her smell was warm and fragrant in the thousand hours of that morning

how you feeling..?

yeah she smiled and tilted her head

as we looked into each others eyes there was an ineffable subtext

her eyes asked my eyes questions

to which my eyes could not lie

she searched my mind for awhile

peering in as our gazes were locked in the thousand seconds of that minute

she rushed into my head and took down everything I had had arranged

a dopey fly landed on my arm and I flicked it away

her smile was a half smile but the eyes were still gazing

we sat on the bank and the soft rain began again

I don’t care she said

its nice isn’t it…I said

yeah its kinda erotic

ha ha

its kinda sensual then

whats the difference between sensual and sensational..?

its both…


the raindrops were so delicately crafted

they were tiny miniatures of raindrops

and they evaporated and left you kissed but strangely dry

the rain touched us Kathy but it left no trace

we felt no need too talk much it sounded much too loud

I was singing some song to myself

even in my mind I get the words wrong to my songs and everybody elses

it drives people mad but I coddle myself by saying its endearing

I want to dive into your ocean..

at that very moment I knew she completed it in her own mind

is it raining with you..?

we looked at each other

how did you do that..?

we walked away into a field of blackberries

the blackberries were delicious

but oh fuck I got pricked by their nasty thorns like a clumsy bear

the tiny rain fell on n on

the earth received it gratefully

the birds were singing in the close distance

if the world was indeed spinning there was no sense of it here

there was no ulterior motive behind anything

the creatures did their thing

the elements were beautiful exorbitant colours

the sky such a lovely mothering grey

the humans observed as humans were meant to observe

we observe each other

we observe ourselves

we observe our observations of the world

when we went back to the caravan she put  bandaids on my leg and fingers

oh my poor man you been in the wars she said from within her permanent dream

we drank a cup of tea and she read the newspaper again

I rolled a joint

the morning stretched out in my imagination

I didn’t ever want to go back to Sydney

it all seemed like another life

in the little caravan by the sea

all those machinations seemed improbable

she knew what I was thinking

and she nodded and smiled and went back to reading

it was only ten o’clock

it would never be yesterday












posted on October 1, 2018 at 9:36 am

64 not out

here I am baby you know where to find me

im back in the USA yeah you gotta be across all that

im in a holiday inn in Long Beach how rocknroll is that?

im playing a rock festival in a few hours oh boy

so old still leading this childish life

hummin’ n a’strummin’ all over gods world

and I like it I like it I like it I like it

here we go o rockin’ all over the world

fuckin’ rock n roll baby hail hail hail

me and my bass yeah

im a dumb ass old rocker going deaf and laying down a riff

starfish the album in its ENTIRE fucking TY

Ploog n Marty long gone I say oh my n a boo hoo

but we got Tim n Haugy n Caino boy those cats sure know how to rock

they make it look easy

thirty years just slipped by in the twinkling of an eye

all that stuff disappeared into times maw

im still here baby rockin n rollin

not yet in ashes or in jail or in some lonely place

still quaffing the applause and drinking limelight juice

still twinkling around that old stagey stage ha ha listen to me

some pale ole Cassius clay spruiking his fading star into the ether

still fuck you’ll miss me when im fucking gone

when I’ve sung UTMW for the final gig n they lay me down in my cheap box

when my voice of ripped velvet is silent

when my nimble fingers are stiff and cold

ha ha ha

no more starfish then

‘less they get a replacement n fuckin carry on with it

good luck to em

and that idiot whoever ever it is replaceth me

good luck old son rock hard and remember to lunge

suffer the slings n arrows of outrageous fortune you ninny

cos being a rocker is the best gig in the world

bar nun


your humble handsome scribe Long Beach cali 30th sept 2018


posted on August 19, 2018 at 10:12 pm


no alcohol beyond this joint

no curtain to blow

no zephyrs to stack

i chase to the cut

what the fuck is that

kero whack

i’m had a drink

i’m a million feet tall

i’m all over town down at town hall

faster than speed faster than bridges

faster than vista faster than slower

my giddy mind of a whorl

i’m a little girl with a grudge

i’m lower case no punk dew australasian

you don’t know what i don’t know

love in gestation above a stationary moon

the womans voice outside the skin of the night

she calling Steef

Steef are you in there tonight

Steef can I have some water

this sea is too salty to drink I think I oughta go

minerva please stay i’m talking to stone here

she say i’d rather play my song on my own here

I stick on music I tear off some art

I run over a number when 12 oclock start

I feel everything too right down to the darkening

deeper than dna the visitors harkening

my dreaming

steef steef wake up i’m leafing

the starz are freezing steef

yes space is for keeping

yet here you are sleeping

we can see ourselves out

its such a long way home but we get there so quick steef

we get there like magic

we get there by stealth

steef we just disappear here and turn up somewhere else

steef I love you and

look we took something

but we gave something too

you’ll find out one day

thats the least we could do









posted on August 11, 2018 at 9:04 pm


after the fire had died down and the ashes cease to glow

Sandbar beach is black against a black sea

the horizon cannot be seen there is no moon in the sky

the shells all jostling in the glassy tide

the trees gently wave along the tiny path

I step behind you blindly in the inky air

in the warm night

the silken thread of a dream

your ghostly back in a one piece navy bathing suit

your spine illuminated from some vague internal luminescence

your chakras zinging

the blood moving around inside you red and blue

you unzip the jungle we arrive at your caravan

you never lock the door

you say there is never anyone here

inside you sit at the table

I sprawl on the bed

the trees gently scratch the roof

its so warm so quiet except for the sound of the sea

you drink from a green bottle of cider

its all so quintessentially Australian its almost unbearable

Kathy, you and I, here in this Australia…

this new Australia

you make a cup of tea on the little stove

the billy whistles

liquorice root and honey

two mugs and some ginger biscuits

you sit down on the bed and give me my cup

we sit there in the silence

a comet rushes overhead making no sound

a creature stirs in the bush some nocturnal marsupial climbing a tree

the blood worms corkscrew in the sand

the trees to the tips of their leaves are all conscious

your face so like my own face

your fading tired face Kathy oh how I love it

the years  have adorned it with lovely lines

and the colour in your eyes has lightened to a soulful pale

you lie behind me kissing my neck

you call this ‘the soothes’

do you want ‘the soothes’ ..?  you’d say

my poor man oh boy he’s had a long day…you’d say…

my poor boy oh man…

you lie behind me whispering things I can’t really hear

the way you’d whisper to a cat or a baby or the way you’d whisper a prayer

the way you’d whisper the names of the devil

or the way you used to whisper the answers during a test in class

the way you’d whisper I love you the first time

the way you’d whisper goodbye the last time

the way our parents whispered when they didn’t want us to hear

Steven are you still awake..?

you were whispering

Kathy i’m here i’m still listening… I say

you talk about the fire on the beach

how those flames roared in the wind..!

how the fire devoured the driftwood and roared for more

armies were marching in the fire on the beach..!

a dog barked miles away in the camping ground

and the wind carried its faint echo to our ears

miles out at sea black whales were moving south seeking cold water

is it too warm for a blanket?

you slipped off your swimsuit and

youre holding me still faintly damp n cool

I’m still fucking tripping..! you said as you wriggled around

me too..! I say and I shudder a little

I’m worn out and I want to go to sleep

we ate and we swam and we fucked on the beach in the black night

we found the wood and we lit the fire

we smoked and we drank and we laughed and we cried

we frightened each other and we begged the other to stop

I kissed her in the darkness and there was nothing to see

her mouth was a portal to some place warm where I felt safe

we sat crosslegged in our bathers as the fire raged in the Australian night

there was no one for miles

the salt had dried on our skins

I could not remember my name

my heart glowed within my chest

where we touched there was an electric blue line

you giggled gleefully like a naughty child as the flames danced and disappeared

and then reappeared from the blackness with a rip

as the fire sank low you lay across my lap and dug your brown fingers into the white sand

there was a splash in the lagoon

a white thin bird arose from its nest with a mournful cry

and we could hear its wings beating in the wild night

out to sea there…a boat..!

no its gone again…

I carry your towel

oh well you are just too kind…you say

yeah sure ha ha

we both laugh

not gonna chuck in the fucking towel just yet…

more ha ha-ing

frogs and insects all start up somewhere out there

the night is alive

our love is deep

the world is enormous yet contained for all of that


you say

one day tell me what happened with those tiny white scars on your back…


I say

quite dreamily

one day

I will











posted on August 8, 2018 at 9:27 pm

king n Eye

in the depths of this dank bar

where the morning never comes

the unimpressionist with my insta memories

knockin’ back a stiff fucken drink

love to hear that ice tinkling against the glass

love to see those dice rolling across years

love to all those people I left behind back there…

little Stella from the tiki lounge

come over here we just gonna get something together

she both exorbitant and free oh boy she looking at me

I reach into my wallet oh no how quick those euros fly

you know me I got friends in all the low places with brutal faces

my city fly by

my universal card admit one free

my smart ticket reduces waiting around

my crumpled white shirt the collars always hurt my soft tan neck

my boots scuffed and scarred

I hit the pavement hard

the ocean has sucked out low

the green moss in the moonlight an iridescent lime

I walk Neptune Street for awhile and then I knock at a door

I go inside and I hand over the cash and I argue with some prick there

he goes away and comes back with it and chucks it at me

we get in Tonys car and drive for awhile

cemeteries and liquor barns and pines and palms

and girls with blonde blonde hair

hey I love this song playing there

Tony is laughing and shrugging

wasn’t that singer the guy Loreen was fucking…?

everybody laughs as we jump out at Tonys flat

Tonys latest flame opens the door and she’s burning hot alright

I sift thru his album collection watching her out the corner of your eye

she’s gliding around the evening like an insolent cygnet on troubled waters

I choose a record by Johnny Consort its as rare as buggery

the songs sound like they’re being played sideways

another smoke another drink another groan

I nearly swoon when I check the messages on my phone

the police found the Golden Fleece and about three keys

I was running a book but they took it with em and had a look

now that they know all the names of the games  its a shame to blame myself

Tonys got nice furniture with its real wooden arms

his fishing rods and his tool kit in the hall

you could envy him this domesticity

his girlfriend and his goldfish

a fridge full of exotic booze

an ashtray from a Melbourne casino and some unusual tongs

his computers screen saver is a still from that film we saw

its the aliens and the earth and the only gun that can kill em

my green drink swims before my eyes in between gulps

I get out the stuff and we all make a dive

little Stella is pretty greedy as she takes it all in at once

tonys more experienced and careful

his gaze never wavers as he figures it all out

the other 2 whose names I don’t know show up

and Tony lets em in and they got gossip and vicodin

the guy used to play guitar on a stage

the woman was lovely before age froze her down to her toes

she used to strip n play bongoes

in the long ago

I step outside into the garden for a breather

either you can hear the sea from here

or that shell im holding to my ear is well ringing

someone inside is singing that song again as little Stella cried

Tony comes outside

and says give us a hand

he shook his head n said the internet just died

I sit there staring at the grass pushing up through the sand

a block of land for sale next door

nah not me mate i’m too fucken poor

still it’d be nice to live next to Tony down by the shore…

his girlfriend comes out and lights up a cig

in the glow of the mosquito coils her nose looks kinda big

she says tonys crashed out for the night do ya wanna bet

and she changes the for sale sign


to let 








posted on August 6, 2018 at 1:46 pm

I coulda been a rhythm guitarist (sigh!)

true believers will already know

ramp speed 25


precious little

and precious little


baby grande

and baby grande

just begat an album out soon on ho-zac records

an American company specialising in stuff like this

whatever baby grande actually is

well its me singing n writing all the songs

Peter Koppes is on some of these tracks but not all

I sometimes play a bit of guitar n synth

but mainly I just sing…although thats using the word sing rather loosely

I imitate a load of other singers in my outta tune flat manner

the lyrics are a fucking giggle

ie the very inexperienced me singing about things I knew very little about

ie drugs women touring show biz dominatrices money stardom scandal booze life

for christ sake I still have never visited a dominatrix in all these years

(although I had one living in my house with the studio in Surry Hills in the nineties)

all delivered in a glam affected sneery silly manner

the guitars chug along and solo like fuck

look theres one good thing about this record

hats off to the geeza who did the mastering job

cos these songs come from a bunch of cassettes from 1974 75 76

different sessions some in big studios

some in Canberra in a 4 track home made jobby studio

and it lo, sounds ok

you’ll find glimpses of yer future humble hero

in songs like as

As Above So Below

god never looked so lovely

on such a moonlit day

all milky incandescence 

all girlish gaunt and grey

other lyrics will have you squirming with embarrassment

the inanity is not hard to find

I didn’t turn into myself until 1977 when I got the 4 track

at my leisure and playing everything then…

you can hear some fragments that remain of my 77 to 80 period

it was the diametric opposite of baby grande

more like an Eno early solo album or something

here I turned into me

some of this music is available on artefacts 

and freaky conclusions and even bits on unearthed

meanwhile someone out there is gonna fuckin’ love baby grande

some wag will pronounce it my finest work

and look it certainly rocks in its own relentless thrust

you know ya gonna have to buy it now ha ha

a true completist gotta have this

its hilarious its stupid its wilfully stupid in fact

its that awful must -have you simply must have

I did write one good song for baby grande

bel air

Peter suggested we do it when we put the church together

we also played around with as above so below

anyway coming soon

whether you want it

baby grande

and yes I give this record my blessing

I think you’ll get a kick out of it

ha ha ha





posted on August 2, 2018 at 9:43 pm


how stupid I look at 4 am when the light comes on in my dream

a hand touches my eyes to stop me seeing

a winged creature seems to leave the room

disapproving mirror swirling like a silvered sea

how abruptly and subtly it confronts me

a shunt for my girls spines

and all the uncollected fines

signs of earlier civilisations lately vanished

crooked wicked blinded deafened

struggle to recognise the eyes misprinted in typeface

ink pours outta a printers mouth

my brushes and my crayons

lay on a lushes ray on a ruin

the Demi gods tower: lemme get back t’ya in an hour

the marble hall of Jupiter: loop it a bit better

make it wetter

better get a sweater

Juno she is Hera

accepts anything as an offering



posted on August 1, 2018 at 7:37 pm


within the hour

upon your return

I have fallen asleep

in some kinda hypnagogue

colder than fire

the stories of your earth

the many meanings of each word you ever uttered

the singing of the spear through my ears

the trident in the sea

my brown arms on your white sands

a shadow blots out a sun

a minute becomes a day

a fortune turns into a debt

a night in each life

a life in each night

star fragments

the illusion of the universe in a dirty puddle

the memory of another mind

the taste of another tongue

another god to worship

another slave to admonish

I walk through brilliant nights and stupid days

too good for this hell


too bad for that heaven

you never get used to the black sea and the black sky

wherever it is they meet I wish I now was

they will meet me there

surely to be waiting for me

nothing left to take

nothing left on offer

and when you’ve suffered sufficiently

and when you’re largely forgotten

and your flowers wash into the pool

then spirit  I will envy you