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


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What's in your Foxhole?

How big is your foxhole? I'll show you mine if you show me yours.
Do you have a flag? How much territory do you possess? What are your boundaries? Are they in dispute? Are you a proud territorian
What's your story?
What the hell am I talking about?

Read below and decipher for yourself. 
There is no wrong answer. You can take from it what you will.

I can assure you though, it has nothing to do with actual foxholes, though thought it prudent to share a few images on the subject.

(Any ideas, feedback, discussion points welcomed).

This is MY Foxhole

The very flavour
In your favour
Is now your cross to bear
(sleeping dogs lie if bears will)
Hibernation arrives
If you hide away inside
And toss salvation to the pack.

Tell a story
Or stand firm
Rather than offer the heart
As flaws with embarrassment
Leave nasty welts
Red, tainted, impressions
To make a statement
A story
Of loss, pain, joy
What may be
The paragraphs are at least visible
Like black beneath the eyes
As persecution is drama
And without either
There’s no hook
To hang the hat
Or pity the self.

So slay the wanderers
And the Peacekeepers
And persist with charge and retreat
As crying foul never hurt you at least.
Make as much noise as possible
While the smoke trails
And the banners fly
As you prop up the mast
And claim your territory
With a purpose

And a wry all-knowing grin.

The poem was written in April 2013. I wrote over 300 poems that year. There's no particular reason I'm sharing this one with you now. Many will never see the light of day. The very best are saved for submissions. Then there are some that just need to get out there, and fuck waiting for publications to get back to me.


  1. I really like the catchy rhythm to this. It's as strong as the message. The first two lines "The very flavour in your favor" really drew me in. Don't keep your poems in hibernation, Anthony. Keep sharing them. Please. They're excellent.


  2. I thought I put a comment up, but maybe I just commented on your google post. Anyway, it went something like: storm the barricades!!! I can identify with the poem because I am peeking out of my foxhole at the moment, waiting for someone to call out arsehole so I have a reason to stay inside. Great poem. LedOL.

  3. It seems that I spent the first half of my life in a fox hole. I did it both figuratively and actually.
    No more foxholes for me.


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