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5 Reasons why you should not read this.

1.

Because it’s not another diluted version of chic urban zen in point form. I am not chic and don’t do points.

2.

Because you saw a number and imagined bullet points that usually signify a quick read. You know, the kind that leave you unfulfilled but proud of yourself for attempting to do something constructive.

3.

Because you can’t help yourself from reading further, just in case the secret to…

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Christmas 2019

Twenty cycles bent to the scythe of time,

the pageant of peace, dollar shackled, passes again.

The unloved ones look on in hope and,

wait,

for God, for anything.

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Shortlist for Overland Fair Australia writing competition

I am proud to have made it to the shortlist.

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The Banquet's end

The Banquet’s end

It is a universal truth that there exists between man and inanimate objects a mysterious. Astute observers of humanity, such as Woody Allen speaks of the “innate hostility of inanimate objects to man.” I concur. My contribution to this dialectic is a response to one of humankind’s worst inventions-the public toilet roll dispenser. Where they fail in utility, they succeed as effective metaphors of…

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#absurdity #being #contradiction #disillusion #existence #existentialism #hope and despair #humour #meaning of life #nihilism #observations #philsosphy #place

The dogs of midnight

This short fiction piece was published in the bezine’s September issue on Social Justice.

Follow this link to read it: https://thebezine.com/portfolio/the-dogs-of-midnight/

Thank you for your continued support of my work.

Mike

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Notes from a window

Ido not know her, the old lady at the window. But, she is familiar to me. I see her almost every day when I approach the cross section. I look for oncoming traffic, then look for her. It has become a habit. She is consistent (a necessary requirement for a habit to form). I do not know if her looking out of the window is the result of habit or the lack of alternatives. She sits to the right of her…

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#ageing #death #short fiction

Why I don't publish regular posts

Why I don’t publish regular posts

I admire writers who are able to publish weekly or even daily. I’m just not one of them. To the readers I have gained, thank you for your time, I know how valuable it is. I believe that I should explain the way that I work in case my lack of visibility is taken as a lack of interest.

I spend a great deal of time thinking about pieces I am busy with. The thinking happens in the form of editing,…

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#publishing #writing

Last lesson of the day: welcome to the real world.

Image: The Burghers of Calais, August Rodin

It’s the last lesson of the day. My students file slowly in, like Rodin’s Burghers. I decide to shelve the lesson I’d planned (a Southern Gothic sojourn through To kill a Mocking Bird via Childish Gambino’s brilliant This is Americaand Rammstein’s Amerika. I was going to start with a question. Where is America outside of text?It’s not happening…

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#assessment #education #learning #Teaching #teaching English

The philosophy and politics of lawn

I water the lawn (initially I wrote grass but realised it is socially ambiguous) twice a week on the days allocated to me by the city council. Restrictions on use were implemented to save water. ‘Watering days’ are determined by property numbers. I have a number 4 type house, even numbered houses may water for 15 minutes on Tuesdays and Saturdays. I’ve set my reticulation system to water for 20…

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On Earth, Volume I (Background)

This information is endorsed by the CGC (Council for Galactic Cooperation).

Introduction

If you are reading this it means you have made the brave decision to visit earth. We hope this page offers valuable information as you plan your visit. Currently all details contained herein are verified as correct. Please advise us as to how we might update this volume upon your return, if you do.

Co-ordinat…

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#humanism #Science Fiction #thought experiment

Context shapes words

I am teaching To kill a mocking bird, published in 1960 to students in 2019. When I first used the terms black and white in class there was a sense of awkwardness. The word black to describe someone of color feels wrong.

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All

All goldfish have eyes (except those that don’t) and, all people are people and, all men are people and all women too. We live in a very peopled place. People use words to become people. Prose, particularly (not purple prose) presents purpose to people (perhaps like this?).

Presently we number about eight billion souls and each one uses words. They all use the big ones like good and badand…

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The aesthetics of being bombed

A White House advisor told President Trump that nobody wanted to hear an American president threaten to launch nuclear missiles. Trump replied: “Then why do we make them?” (2016)

The aesthetics of being bombed: a timely review of a favourite human pastime.

When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st, “Beauty is…

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The naming of ducks.

Mother died just before they first arrived. An arrival in return for a departure. I’d rather have had mother than the ducks but we take what we get. Besides, one does not really have anyone. Language anchors us to people in this way. Verbs, in the present tense at least, allow us to believe that we have ownership, that we belong. But we own little and seldom belong. I had a mother. I had a…

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Mud

Everything carries simultaneously the potential for life and death. Soil fosters life and is the primary cause of war. Water sustains life, people drown in it. Water and soil make mud. Mud kills. On Earth, Vol. I

He is driving a car on a freeway into a city. Rather, the car engine drives, he chooses the direction. Not choice exactly, he must go there. He must present documents in order to…

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#existentialism #identity

Thank you

Cheers

To all of you who read the pieces I write, thank you. Writing is a solitary thing and the process sometimes feels like being locked in an echo chamber. It makes a real difference knowing that at the end of the process you are going to read the words.

I sincerely appreciate your interest in my work.

A comment or hitting the like button reminds me that we share this process so don’t be shy.

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insomnia on some near shore

In some near place of interminable wakefulness I walk the long grey shore of sleep, in some near place, insomnia. There where I wear my tongue as a tie pin, I wear it there since I have no further need of it.

Tongueless dialogues curl ceaselessly about me, strange voices, multitudinous waves beat a staccato indictment: you shoulda, coulda, didn’t; shoulda, coulda, wouda; didn’t, widn’t, isn’t. It…

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