23 February 2024
26 October 2025
submitted for the Gwen Harwood Poetry Prize 2025 but not on the short list announced 7 February 2025
when less is less
by just scaling compute
ay, there’s the rubber, the
depth charge that perturbs
the seal and the whale, cannot
rule the world but disassemble
the brains of its hearers
they, too, flail the way of all flesh
deep into glaring dark
the composite, enshittified night
gawd help us – to believe for one macro
that any less could be
more…
the Cartesian cleft
through which we travel to the stars
the web beneath the sea
upon which we creep
the speed of light
splattering our speech
with earthly similitude
deepfakes, wise clouds
the watchers on the hill
lie here o’ertopped, entranced
Saul stands aside, Stephen
does not dodge the stones