Status Updates From Solid Air: Australian and N...

Box
Luke Wren Reid

I gotta buy a house
I have to have a place to live in
A white walked box to fit my safety in
Some walls and rooms to bury my dreams in
Some job from which to shovel the foundations
In from

You need to buy a house
Something to work for
A comma on the way to
A full stop
Some punctuation of survival
That barricades the useful from the vacant lot

You need a house to live in
A box to bury your dreams

The boys
OMAR MUSA

The boys are turning mad.
The boys are turning circles in the sky.
The boys are swooping down
with bass-heavy hearts & sharp talons,
plucking the eyes of cows & dismembering doves.

The boys are turning ferocious.

The boys are growing up
with garlands of nuts, bolts & knucklebones
around their necks
Pistons plunge
in their forearms & jaws,
petrol churns
in the chambers of their chests

fly in fly out fly in fly out
ALLAN BOYD (AKA THE ANTIPOET)

fly in fly out fly in fly out
and she’s on another swing
a roundabout of airports
another pilbara narrative
racking up the qantas points
at the exit seat, inside a novel
pindan fingers
pindan boots
fly in fly out fly in fly out
siren, rumble of blast
iron hills to rubble
at the next CAT ONE shutdown
we evacuate ourselves
in a debt cycle

To the flight attendant on QF11 to LA
C.J. BOWERBIRD