environment
8 posts
C.H.R.Y.S.A.L.I.S
Poetry
C.H.R.Y.S.A.L.I.S
All covered up in a brown nest I learned to call a “chrysalis” / And I could spell it too: C.H.R.Y.S.A.L.I.S. / And she told me that patience had power, That the caterpillar in the chrysalis would turn to goo and then into a butterfly. And all I had to do was wait.
Mia Boonen
by Mia Boonen
2 min read
A Body in a Borrowed Shirt
Poetry
A Body in a Borrowed Shirt
I’m wearing a borrowed shirt / and I’ve stained it with a dish I call / “curry adjacent”
Mia Boonen
by Mia Boonen
1 min read
Lessons We Learned
Memoir
Lessons We Learned
After a long, anxiety-inducing summer spent isolated with my parents in our family home on the burning NSW South Coast, it seems I learned some lessons about dread and impending doom that have come in handy.
Will Hall
by Will Hall
3 min read
The New Norm
Poetry
The New Norm
Smoke and haze / Dreams ablaze / Patiently waiting, for Death’s sweet gaze
Dillon South
by Dillon South
1 min read
Warming/Warning
Poetry
Warming/Warning
Under the pink sky dulled by the fumes of the train, stand a little closer to me, darling.
Mia Boonen
by Mia Boonen
1 min read
Our World is Burning
Articles
Our World is Burning
Our ice is melting, Fires are ravaging our home, and Attenborough is angry.
Eiddwen Jeffery
by Eiddwen Jeffery
3 min read
Walking at Dusk: My Inner Monologue
Memoir
Walking at Dusk: My Inner Monologue
I have an inner monologue that is constantly running, like the voiceover in some off-beat Australian dramedy. Walking down the street is like the first sequence of ‘Offspring’.
Mia Boonen
by Mia Boonen
1 min read
an active campaign
Poetry
an active campaign
a jolly man affixed on marigold board / pledges of greatness from a third storey / two thumbs up to hide the fraudulence
Jake Stevens
by Jake Stevens
1 min read
You've landed at the bottom of the rabbit hole.
The Penny Mint acknowledges the land on which we work, perform and reside: on Boonwurrung, Woiwurrung and Wathaurung Country. We extend our deepest gratitude to the elders and ancestors who have told their stories and sung their songs on this land for more than 60,000 years. We acknowledge that this land was never ceded, and no treaty has ever been reached. This always was, always will be Aboriginal land.
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