only search Walleah Press

  • Poem: 'Winter Drift'
  • Poem: 'Morning After'
  • Poem: 'Farm Boys'
  • Poem: 'Broken Sleep'
  • Poem: 'Gravel Stories'
  • Poem: 'These Days'
  • Poem: 'Woman Leaving a Farm'
  • Poem: 'The Mountain'
  • Poem: 'Territorial Claims'
  • Poem: 'Play time'


































    Farm Boys

    You can see their utes pulling dust toward the highway
    smell the Brut, blue jeans
    pressed by their mother
    the night’s milking shadowing their palms.

    You can tell by the way they arrive
    at a decent hour
    support the bar with steady conversation,
    add weight to the walls
    watching girls they cannot talk to.

    You can tell by the way they drink
    without getting their lips wet
    how they listen after a handshake,
    study their boots as a woman passes
    and five beers later, stories of their father.

    You might remember them at the hamburger van
    tall as haysheds, still listening
    to your opinions, the note
    of your girlfriend’s car they will memorise
    until the sound of their tyres punishing the gravel
    becomes the night,
    driving itself home..