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Michael Farrell


the black again


a lady closes her mouth to
shout bored with white & grey with puff
iness ascends to the penthouse
the steps acknowledge her front &
back its the influence of the
velvet underground she thinks gold
floods the teeth between her friends catch
phrases fear had become gene
tic shed too often been the so
ber passenger the survivor
behind the yellow tape time like
a circular saw loosens her




load cracks grow
we couldve
been sheep too
late unless
we fly back
our twins who
only smoke
in drag hes
by the drive
the honkhonk
keep going theres nothing where you started a
string around your neck & foot you breathe
better manage your affection bet
ter pins than nothing pink with snow some
jump & lose their fear of guns an o
penmouthed meditation leads to my
stery some of the middleaged put
themselves out like plants to protect you
from philosophy a quiet rains
the torch shone in the face was your pass
port to motherhood that faded as
you lit a match
everyone was called
to account the gift
of laughter killed them
vibrating with
history & ore
the dead thing in the fridge needs no gifts
still theres probably a catalogue
go down as the earth spins
any ufos for
get hold onto my eyes
the frustrated air bleeds
coastal disappointments my
new theories racked with new
inconsistencies till i
tried it again in a
rage there was always more
& affected the kids
in my care then the man
agement got mixed up &
becoming professor
thinking i read somewhere
what softdrink did the clocks
run on the kids had fis
cal notions which helped kill
the dog or the aller
gy afflicted tortoise
which meant more rituals
in witches hats
running up ramps
bumping heads
& failing to
set anything
alight or find a partner
did it rain were we dressed it
was funny to feel again




live from the broke tooth club


nothing can be verified

fell off & left him alone

blunt nasty likely to die from it

dumb bunny

inverts wash up here

just lift up this rock

knowing each well

devil or girl

couldnt afford the lights could they




he thought of arcs

where to make a mark

face down rapidly calculating broke

one toe

a german saying

simply going up for love

then it seemed incredible

more a wish than fulfilment

to be students of the wilderness




dearxenoph ile




nolongwhitebeard no
wandthewaytojokestocheckaudie ncetips
get cutsatfirst everythingstherephonewith
rescue date onlyhalfdumb withfear&proj

5 mid emptin
17 ing bad what
22 ects suppose careers improve before ruin






Michael Farrell is the Australia editor of slope ( His first book ode ode was recently published by Salt Publishing and is available at It includes poems from La Petite Zine, Lit, The Literary Review, Quarterly West, Salamander, slope, Tooth, Verse, and Volt..



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