Brooke Renwick Biography

Loneliness is a festering boil.

Say the fullness of my bones,
can be whittled and honed.
...

What little creatures
live in my garden?
Snails and locusts,
avail by my pardon.
...

Thousands of megalitres
of silted tidal surge flow in / out
between the forested mountains
and the protected bay of islands.
...

Love is in the air and,
I want to watch your derriere,
swing as you walk to the
bedroom to get changed,
...

I dream in vivid color.
I dreamt of grim death.
The Reaper's henchmen,
were gathering the lame.
...