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2018 Best New Talent - Short and Sweet Festival Sydney
2014 Pushcart Prize nominee. (more)

Books: Eclectic story collection Pseudo Stars out now!

Pain Meme - Plus a non-book extra!

Christmas Gift? Great idea!

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This little extra didn't make the cut because it had similiar themes to other poems before it.

Otherwise there's nothing wrong with it.
I hope you like it.

Tainted Global Footprints 

He stands at the edge 
Barely out of view 
Yet able to see all 
Especially what he is 
Not a part of. 

With smooth blonde locks 
She parades without an awkward pose 
Advertises, without a unflattering angle 
Yet not aware of the intrinsic 
Individualistic nature 
Of the audience. 

Only that they are there 
And they will always be there 
At least, 
So she believes  
In this moment. 

One receives little 
Observes the panorama 
Bleeds the spectrum. 

The other takes all 
Aware of shreds only 
And not the bloody trail 
Least of all, 
The cost of the human footprint. 

Check out 

Allowing a love to die at Atrilla Books.

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Sexiest Literature of all Time...? (warning adult content)

Sexiest Literature of all Time... or Fornication Farce?  

I just realised, as I began writing, that you're not going to believe me.

It was my birthday recently and my lovely Auntie asked me if I wanted a book. I said don't worry but she insisted. Nicely of course. So I went on a hunt of Best of lists to see what was out there.
I came across this post. Naturally I had to investigate.

I don't know whether to phuck you or pluck you...

This wasn't created by some shitty blogger ... but by Esquire Magazine, published in March 2017.

I'll save you the trouble of going through the list but as I read their text grabs from each book my mouth gaped in horror. Not at the language or so called eroticism, but at how badly written it is.
Take note, each line is from a different book. Here we go:

Even dead, Drenka gave him a hard-on; alive or dead... He came on her grave many nights.

She nuzzles her cunt into my face like a filly at the gate.

Had the same effect on me

For a moment he had an impulse to embrace her. He had a stronger impulse to beat her

He knew all sorts of expert angles, his hands never fumbling, going over my whole body, pressing the hair up and off the back of my head, giving an extra hip shove, as if to say There."


Dean comes—it's like a hemorrhage

(By the way, none of the books in this dodgy list are what I would call classics. Fanny Hill is a classic. Lolita. Tropic of Cancer etc.)

When he enters her, when this throbbing, cyclamen-headed, silken, apoplectic fifth limb of his reaches as near to her center as her pelvis will allow, he, in it, will be returning, she believes, to the origins of his desire.

 ...looking him straight in the eye, she insisted she had not had an orgasm even though the rug was fairly dripping with it."

Her muscles were rigid and she held her breath. Ribcage turned into two parallel rollercoaster tracks. 

Her slick firm body was shameless yet did not reveal, as her more virginal intercourse once had done, the inner petals drenched in helpless nectar."

"Jerk after jerk of Jason's artisanal come filled her rejoicing twathole. 'Now quick, hop on this cockbranch.' 

You're going to say Octopussy aren't you...

And now we'll come to you.
(Terrible I know but couldn't resist).



More Satire

Love Murder - Trailer

Meditations on Love & Loss

Official Trailer

Now available through the author directly at


Limited Print Copies - Don't Miss out!

My Coming Out Post - A lifetime in the making

My Unwanted Companion

In the spirit of Movember and Men’s mental health and all things transparent, I figured it’s my turn.

I made this video only a week ago. I had no intention of putting it online. This post is a last-minute decision. I may even regret it. Watch the video, join me on the other side.

(See Caged without Walls - a  metaphor for being trapped in one's own head).

Looking back, I’ve had anxiety since I was a child. I had a panic attack at ten. Of course, we didn’t know any of these things back then. I didn’t even know I’d had panic attacks in the past until they began occurring regularly in 2012 when I sought help.

In high school I was told I had Hypoglycemia. I had to change my diet and cut back on sugar. A year ago, I asked my mother what that was all about. She said it was stress. I hated high school. I didn’t finish it. I was unemployed. (I grew up working-class in a tiny town). There were no opportunities. Already depressed at 17 I began binge drinking. I fell in love with booze. As I got older, my friends began behaving more responsibly but I didn’t. I drank until oblivion. It's still the way I drink.

I had an eight-year break in my thirties when I finally managed to get on top of it after trying for years. Booze led me to bad situations. Never an aggressive person, even when wasted, I was nevertheless assaulted twice. One time put me in a hospital in Ireland for a week.

Naively and stupidly, I picked up the drink again nine years ago and have been struggling these past few years to stop. I have a few months respite, then relapse. It’s something I am still struggling to overcome.

Drinking brings temporary relief to anxiety. Any alcoholic will tell you that. But it makes it far worse the next day. I’ve been on medication for depression since 2006 when I had a major crash and burn. (Ironically I was sober then). Anxiety is my daily foe. Depression; not as often. But when they work together, I can get suicidal.

Somehow, I’ve managed to have a fairly stable life but as I age, it’s getting tougher. Being a single dad with no family in New South Wales and a weekend hasn’t helped. A solitary existence isn't great for anyone. This past couple of years have been very tough. I even did a 3-week stint in rehab for alcohol. I busted soon afterwards.

I was diagnosed last year with mild bi-polar. And while I definitely have manic periods (a lot of creative people do), I also think doctors are all too quick to put people on medication. I'm trying to come off one now, but that's another story.

I’ll never get rid of anxiety and depression. They have always been with me. But I hope to manage them enough to continue to live and be the best person I can be for my daughter, and also for myself. If I can’t live with myself, then I’m in real danger. And the danger is real.

I’m not after pity. You don’t have to say anything at all. You’ve had your moments too. Perhaps far worse than mine. You’ve been on this journey with me, in this small way, for a long time, so you may as well know it all. And it could always be worse right?

Next week,

Something completely inappropriate and fun – just for the balance. 😊
And end the year with a recording of my short play, Three Little Words and some of my favourite songs and films from 2018. Perhaps you can think of yours too and share them when we get to it. Life is still beautiful.

Have a good week.