thanks for the invitation. I'm an 18-year old poet, currently studying first-year Arts at Melbourne University. I'm still a novice, but thus far my work has appeared in Thylazine, and is upcoming in Sidewalk, Paper Tiger, and Centoria. As far as poetics go, I have no idea where I'm going stylistically, and I'm always keen for some kind of guidance. Right now I'm trying to get over just how good John Forbes is, and I've been reading plenty of Gig Ryan's work. To supplement this I read a lot of Auden and Roethke, plus a lot of Plath, but I'm currently fascinated by Australian poetry. cheers.. here are two poems. Insight Having no need to learn the escape-route into fiction I can see by your kaleidoscope spines, salacious jackets just what makes a graceful paperback. The kind of read gives you fixation of imagination laid a-ways from my reality of pacing lope and mirror-side findings, done to a backing of insatiable greed, say, on my behalf. Patient father, to mother I looted your charms for the good of my eyes, and they’re as much a mystery to me as this first, amazing page – man in pale shirt confiding in the air of a field. Trampoline My cousin, also from the city, we could jump on all day, the trampoline eating with soaring absorption energy in our toes. This was the drive-in cinema on the edge of a paddock for us, the air our gentle headset, toes getting close to farm ground but bouncy webbing caught us staring so we barely got a sniff of the cow action. Just tasted the strange country flavour fairy-floss in the natural white of cloud. With no added preservatives the only colouring was the plastic wrapping of blue atmosphere. And you, cousin, you sent me packing as we vied for finer gulps of liquid Cirrus – pushed me off and I flew, blacked out when first I felt the factory paddock floor. Concussed, dad was after some compensation so I pretended I didn’t know the time or day. There I never knew. %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%