Here’s a list of poems and stories of mine that have been published online. Many thanks to the editors who have chosen to add these words to their pages and screens. If you’d also like to hear me read some of my poems, head over to the Listen page and have at it.
I Can’t Make A Living (via Overland)
“…out of watching butterflies / drinking turtles’ tears / on the internet.”
Dog Day Afternoon! (via Asimov’s Science Fiction)
“He sits quietly, his hand still warm / from electricity drawn out of the single / naked light bulb…”
Reason for Absence. (via Poet Laureates of Melbourne)
“The Eldest has kicked a hole in her door. / I give her the day off. I feel magnanimous / until the youngest tells me that’s not fair.”
Wallet. Keys. Phone. (via Slippage Lit)
“If you had to carry three things in your pocket wherever you went, what would they be?”
Peril, Thy Name is Plunderer! (via Freezeray Poetry – scroll down)
“She remembers the way the flashlight / went out when he held it in the big / silver mitten of his hand…”
The Great Rocketeers Revival! (via Freezeray Poetry)
“She tugs her robe tighter. The kids / munch cornflakes. It’s two parts / Norman Rockwell, one part Amazing / Science Stories.”
A New Route (via Going Down Swinging)
“I have said that the way you want / is not much more / than just a hint of sea in one / day…”
A House is Not a Home! (via Strange Horizons)
“You enter the house. / You are in a small room. / You hope you will / be safe in here / from the aliens / disguised as FBI agents.”
8-Bit Rainbows (via Southerly )
“Nyan! The best of 2 great worlds! Half kitteh-cat! Half pop-tart! / Loping past the twinkling stars I’m YouTube’s cutest mutant!”
That was Mars the Other Night I’m Sure of It (via Seizure)
“bright as a bicycle tail light at 4am beside Venus’s beacon like someone with a head- / torch on a ladder at the top of a tree just /over there on the oval at the bottom of /the hill…”
Arrival! (via Going Down Swinging and The Red Corner)
“It’s classic meet-cute. / He’s a seven-foot cyborg on / a quest to rid the galaxy of an ancient evil. / She’s a small-town girl on her way home from work.”
I’m Worried That My Increasingly Complex Shower Masturbation Routine is Unethical Because of The Amount of Water I Use (via cordite)
“I try to avoid thinking about the / permeable membrane between / TV and the internet.”
Anti-RomCom Pop Song (via Australian Poetry Journal)
“the girl that I like doesn’t like me / so I / respected her decision as an autonomous human being…”
The Moon is Not Talking to Us (with Gregory Mackay) (via cordite)
“Nothing that comes from the Moon is intended for us.”
read the comic version | read the text version
Salt (via Overland)
“He steps out onto the dry, white lakebed. / Hears the crunch of crystals underfoot. / Tries not to imagine whiteness creeping / over rubber and dusting leather on its / journey to his ankle.”
The Modified B Plan (via Linebreak)
“The bastards fly. People are dead. We’re on the modified B plan.”
The Battle of Clarendon St (with Grant Balfour & Charles “Bud” Tingwell) (via YouTube)
“It was Cazaly who united them, Cazaly with his coal-black hair and eyes of steel…”
Escalation (Use Only as Directed) (via qarrtsiluni)
“We appreciate that a poster / with instructions for the use / of escalators may seem patronising…”
The Thing (via Snorkel)
“”Have you got the thing?” she asks, / turning around to face me. / My silence demands information. / She repeats herself instead.”
First Incision (via cordite)
“The scalpels rattle in the wooden box / as you gently set it beside the slab. / The body lies with forelegs drooping, / hooves resting just above its chest.”
Mine (via Overland Express – archived at National Library of Australia’s Pandora archive)
“Your orbit entwines Io and Ganymede / and I don’t care if it’s geometrically impossible; / I can still see you.”
Dancing to Architecture
“Start. / A 4/4 beat.”
A Rare Talent (via cordite)
“The ability to recognise samples, / to pinpoint the source of a sound / that slides from left to right speaker…”
Mea Culpa (via cordite)
“In the morning all that’s left / is a clutch of feathers / by the watertank…”
The Other Adam Ford 
