Author Archives: brogan

Miners emerging from a deep cave, lamps twinkling within the inky glass. My sunglasses looking upwards from the table to the chandelier where the miner’s lights actually come from. I should have noticed the lack of swaying, the stillness of … Continue reading →

Tonight I am scouring for details but cannot see them. Rain has fallen all week. There are low clouds above the table – plastic bags, white and grey. The opposite chair is empty, but slightly back from the table. Just … Continue reading →

I had almost lost these black gloves. I didn’t notice one evening when they fell out of my top box on to the front lawn. But they were there the next day when I left for work. Nobody had taken … Continue reading →

Chucked across the table – across the plastic bag clouds – like the sudden coming of night. The black jacket is the ether that mediates beneath the earth and the heavens. Twisted and labyrinthine, with soft curves and folds. I … Continue reading →

I have already decided that I cannot, that I am unable to. The end of an envelope ripped nearly in half lays on other envelopes as yet unopened. The dead fish tail of the toothpaste casts a subtle shadow over … Continue reading →

Swaying in the breeze. Yes, there is a breeze. What stupid conceit led me to decorate this place? Fairy lights through the cosmos (as though the moon would be better painted another colour). Blue and white flowers grouped and swooning, … Continue reading →

Across the depths of the gathering night – in ebbs and flows, but ascending – it rains. I had walked in it, pelted with huge wet drops. And now I have escaped it. This table remains dry, although clearly it … Continue reading →

All the white things seem to have risen up, resisting the the darkness of the sky, resisting the bright and shiny constellations. They are neither ground, nor ether, nor starry heavens. They are some other realm of mediation – a … Continue reading →

Struggle through the late afternoon. A single apple and lime in a large wooden bowl at the far end of the table. They lie beyond the range of my immediate attention. The apple has been there too long. I will … Continue reading →

The time is past when I can say anything reasonable or furnish the outer rooms of my abandoned home. I have done my best. I have looked in various directions. I have raised my head above the table, the ceiling … Continue reading →

A Chinese fan composed of diverse items. Actually just three: the keys to my motorbike; a letterbox advert for Samsung mobile phones; and a packet of Ramset Wallmate picture hanging anchors and hangers. The body of some exemplary mobile phone … Continue reading →

I drink this cheap German lager beer, Henninger. Must be dumped from the European market. It is cheaper than any Australian beer. it comes in a green bottle, with ‘Henninger’ in red on the label. It seems to have been … Continue reading →

I am tempted to turn all the lights off and to listen to the clock. Some screwdrivers obscured by paper. My wallet behind the screen. It seems someone called Geraldine Harrison lived here before me. She never redirected her mail. … Continue reading →

The table changes in small increments, with the arrangement of items slightly different each day. Something new appears. Something else is gone. Something else is moved slightly. The clutter may seem a consistent, gathering phenomenon, but it has its ebbs … Continue reading →

To find the means to assemble one word in front of another. I cannot hear the jets. I am on my own. The small red light on the near speaker suggests that I have left the speaker on for a … Continue reading →

Above the black jacket, which has returned again, is another bowl of fruit – only recently here. It contains a small bunch of bananas, two pomegranates, two small mangoes and two green avocados. One of the mangoes has a prominent … Continue reading →

It is night. What are the particular qualities of night? That darkness surrounds on all sides? That all light is contained within a hessian sack immersed in a cold, deep creek, amongst smooth, rounded stones. The fish swim above the … Continue reading →

Even now the table is only dimly apparent. Just 7am. A cool breeze blows in at the kitchen sliding door. The sound of morning birds, distant cars and the clock – as well, of course, as my hands typing on … Continue reading →

I walked up into the suburbs and down to the sea. I followed an old route – one that I used to walk at night. It was late afternoon, pressing towards dusk. The sky was grey and overcast – it … Continue reading →

Last weekend I bought an expensive pair of pruning shears. They have aluminium handles that feel good to hold. I used them to prune the hydrangeas. Innumerable stalks, each needing to be cut back to the lowest green bud. My … Continue reading →

My old motorcycle helmet has shifted toward me this morning. Moved, as I recall, to create space for a plate. I wonder why I leave the helmet here. It should properly be discarded. I also wonder about the tiny yellow … Continue reading →

A five dollar note curved in the shape of a boomerang stands on its side, supported at the rear by a portable hard drive and at the front by a folded piece of A4 paper. The note is purple. It … Continue reading →

I am listening to Johnny Cash – “In the sky, Lord, in the sky”. Brief distant view of mountains and glaciers. Seals sleeping on the pebble beach. Shards of ice on the softly lapping shore. Penguins porpoise through the shallows. … Continue reading →

Everything seems to be drawn to the left side of the table. Boxes, bowls, cords and bits of paper hang over the edge. The music is also at the left. The wind blows in from the right, although not this … Continue reading →

White plate balanced at a slight angle on two small boxes – one cardboard and the other plastic. Salome is waiting for the head of St John the Baptist. In the meantime she has eaten some burnt toast. I used … Continue reading →