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everyone knows what pelicans look like... by Scott-Patrick M

these pelicans appear evenly
sitting on lamp-posts
along the Mitchell Freeway South
heading north, toward the city

these pelicans look at heaven
& all they can muster
is a yawn

they have no interest
in the myth & astrology
human's have wedged
into the dawning night sky... for more of Scott-Patrick's wonderful poetry pick up a copy of issue two.

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Untitled... by Paige

What can I say about the aftermath?
Now that the moving lights have passed... for more of Paige's evocative poem pick up a copy of issue two.

the midnight disposal... by d. lance

The strangest thing happened the other night. Our bin was stolen by two men in a white van. It was around 11:45pm, and I was returning home from a trip to the nearby 24/7. I first noticed the van wriggle its way out of a secret ally to turn into our street. Its smooth body glistened in the moonlight and I sensed it sniffing out my warm-blooded flesh. Shivers fluttered down my spine and, thinking fast, I dove into our overgrown rosemary bush just before the metallic beast silently crept up to our curb.

What's going on? My breath suddenly caught in my throat as I witnessed its gills fling open to expel two dark shadows into the night. I tried to focus on their blurry outlines but they moved with the grace of ripples in a pond. I had lost sight of them. My eyes desperately searched the darkness, but I was distracted when, out of nowhere, came a deep rumbling. At first I thought it was my stomach, but soon realised it was coming from somewhere within this bizarre midnight scene playing out before me. I glanced up just in time to see one of the men drag our green wheelie bin over to the van and load its bulky frame into the back. Our bin?

The thieves seemed to abandon their stealthy approach to the operation now. Doors slammed shut with a resonance that could wake the dead. I leapt from my hiding place just as they sped off with a squeal, energetically making up for their noiseless arrival. What the hell just happened? Why so much effort for our bin? I decided to find out more. So I ran. I ran as hard as I could in the van's hazy wake. It had advanced into third gear by the time I'd reached the end of the street, but I knew I'd never get any sleep tonight if this encounter was left unsolved.

It stopped a couple of houses ahead, right next to a small patch of open land, and the two thieves got out to open the back doors. The taller one grabbed the reluctant hostage and dumped it onto the dusty ground, while the other leaned against the van and lit a cigarette. I was a safe distance away, but the bin's hollow cries still assaulted my ears. Large black organs spewed from its bowels and I felt a solitary tear roll down my cheek. There was nothing I could do. I was no match for the two men.

Finally, once the red glow had burned close to the filter of his cigarette, the observer raised his hand and muttered, "That's enough. Throw 'im in the back." And they were gone again. I felt like a traitor. What kind of life awaited our stolen bin? Maybe if I had intervened somehow... I scratched the dirt with the tip of my shoe and started back home.

I didn't even get the rego.

i'm not cold hearted... i just can't be arsed with bullshit forwards, by sebastian

Now, while I admit to once being a gullible target for chain emails in the days of my youth, unfortunately some of my friends still indulge in punishing other members of the un-asking public with their constant onslaught of forward-spam. Call me a wet blanket, but I don't know a single person who ever got a free Ericsson from forwarding some bullshit email onto 20 people they might know, or got run over by some semi trailer for not sending on some pixelated clip-art-adorned pissy haiku about friendship. It's like I can't be fucked sending you a real email so I prefer to recycle someone else's message that's already been bouncing around the world for the past two years.

One of the worst offenders would have to be the charity chain email (and now facebook forward). The problem is not going to be solved because I forwarded a message onto my 120+ friends on superwall. And don't give me that, "if you ignore this email you are cold hearted" bollocks. I mean shit, I'm a charitable bastard, but I'd like to know what cause I'm supporting before I go promoting the appeal of some unemployed stay-at-home single mother on the other side of the world, who has a diseased five year old with a goiter the size of a beaver and feet for hands, who doesn't even exist!! (Yeah, I'm that skeptical I even research these people and the organisations they affiliate their causes with to find out that a great deal of these appeals are hoaxes.) It's just like those guys that wear the face of Ernesto Guevara de la Serna on a tee shirt because it makes them look trendy, without even giving a fuck who he is.

Sending depressing forwards onto all your virtual friends so they will think "I'm considerate and sensitive" (and think you should be too, but I can't even be fucked to say a simple hello) without even giving the cause another thought even after having sent it, is as pointless as shit on a stick, regardless if the cause is real or faux.

You don't need to send some disposable shitty forward to a hundred people you know in order to be a good person, when you can make a difference directly to one person you may not even know.

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