• Nandi Chinna





       Drain; a continual loss, demand, expenditure. A tube or wick for draining
       an abscess. A channel or pipe along which liquid drains. SOED


While rain makes the earth aquatic,

drowns the slabs of half-built houses,

blurs the horizons of unfinished rooms,

splatters sewer pipes not yet connected,

we crawl through a manhole into the underground,


tunnel beneath the embryonic suburb

where all the nights of the future

are plumbed to pour away

from bodies stripped of suits and dresses,

sweat and love and childhood diseases:

a cloacae maxima of blood and faeces,

antibiotics and hormones flushed

down a splash hole of white.


But for now we are running bent double;

our screams tear around corners, reach the junctions ahead of our feet;

we huddle in the halo of our cigarettes, under the s-bend of our echoes,

our whole lives poised above our heads.




Beautiful Weeds


The beautiful weeds are blazing on Clontarf Hill;

yellow, white, cream-veined, purple gold.

New Holland honeyeaters ruckus

in the banksia and tuarts,

and from the summit I can see the islands,

the big ships chugging into the harbour

slicing a trajectory across a steel grey ocean.

Behind me the red rooves of houses

stack east in lines.

Three butterflies are jousting in the bluest air

dusting their colours onto each other.

What better thing to do with your few days of flight

than to wing and collide with your attraction,

to reproduce in the hours you can,

then exhale and subside onto an undisturbed  hillside,

to lay your exquisite wings down

in the limestone and grasses,

down amongst the beautiful weeds?