or mirages. Thought lies anchored
with its crew at rest and no lookout
to warn of the interloper boarding
from the longboat: madness needs
no moonlight, stealths its way to
the wheelhouse, grapples every degree
of wind, every tackle of tide, sounds
every watch with leaden tongue,
marks every depth beyond despair,
resounds its victory in every quarter,
giving none.
- Ross Clark
Ross lived with us for a year and has been a lecturer in literature at QUT for the last few years, whilst pursuing his writing career. He is taking this year off to devote his time to full time writing as well as his music.
Burn brightly mate, Pete
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