Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘Byron bay’

the bloke on a bike on bangalow road

Nowadays every bloody car on the road is up your exhaust like male dogs testing each other for signs of Proestrus, never mind the scenery.

Read more

the nimbin route from byron

The Hippy buses from Byron to Nimbin - an observation of the life within.

Read more

the maggot

Monty would raid anything binned up on the footpath outside a retail outlet; lingerie, old calendars, book bins, litre bottles of Corsican chardonnay, apples and bananas.

Read more

byron bay crowd control – 1964 – a proven method

Rip an unborn calf from the womb of its dead mother and let it stew a while in the summer heat, then transport it at the dead of night to the Pass campsite wherein sleeps The Tribes of Unwanted and deposit this decomposed matter within their midst.

Read more

a home of bones and charnal dust

The high rafters of the cooking room hide platoons of giant rats; sleek, fat, black and fed to bursting from their nightly foraging from the split edges of the bags

Read more

west of byron bay

Al is a Dylan man, lifelong, plus he has no nighttime eyesight – and his emphysema betrays a swamped puddle of rotted lungs – yet he smokes and smokes.

Read more

the deputy

Today a couple not known to him was standing on the crowded footpath outside the liquor shop. They were drinking beer and talking loudly, angrily. Alec spat and laughed silently to himself as he examined the short red velvet dress worn by the woman.

Read more

cliques, the bondi variety

These lads are known to meet from time to time around one of the tables of the Great Northern in Byron Bay with their part Filipina grandchildren squabbling around underfoot, and they mutter and grumble over their drinks about typhoons and squalls, and Catholic wives.

Read more

The pier astor byron bay

A collective drunkenness slowly took hold of the crowd as the night grew older and a group of local girls took a liking to the empty dance floor and all the eyes that surrounded it, beginning what became a stampede to rhythm as every man in the room rushed in to join them.

Read more

the invitation to wategos

the past

Read more

the house at the top of the pass. mrs brown

Mrs. Brown is home, and is watering her roses in the windless heat up there.

And a barefoot youth runs up at her from the road, he is wild eyed and blowing from some massive exertion, his t-shirt is crimson with dried blood

Read more

doug, the hopperman

Doug stood up and backhanded him twice to the wall, all splintering glass now, and spilt beer and dumbfounded shock

Read more

the shute

Les Heath worked there alone for each of the ten-hour shifts, and in his fastidious way he executed up to two hundred and fifty beasts each day before he made his way back to the small cottage he leased behind the southern corner of Broken Head.

Read more

the loading gang

Myth has it that Archie, Head Ganger twenty years ago, deliberately knocked over one of these office maggots with an open side of beef and the exposed rib bones sliced away half of his face.

Read more

the hide room

Lightless ponds that rise from time to time and issue a swell of virulent discontent from a deep rupture unmeasured.

Read more

the slaughterman

hooded men from the freezer rooms muffled up in layers of rags and old sacking, slaughtermen with their bare forearms and faces crusted with heavy sprays of blood, local toughs wearing scabbards full of razor edged knives.

Read more

a small town welcome ~ byron bay 1964

She leaves the café and locks up the front doors, then walks around you and climbs into the car. You notice that she has nice legs, and he is still standing there undecided, so you bleed a little onto the footpath in submission, waiting for him to go away.

Read more