• White Twitter Icon
  • Spotify - White Circle
  • Facebook - White Circle
  • Instagram - White Circle

The Orange House        James Goldworthy

Queensland, Australia


Spend me again under amber eyes, 

playing victim to bitter flavors of familiar

flesh and grand illusions. Pursuits of

power link me to the chain: I am another

number on this street, but the keys on my

belt no longer fit this lock. 


Watch me sweat from fire stairs 

fumbling for my pride on broken steps; 

the shudder for the violence of another. 

Thorns grow through magnolias I prick

my fingers digging your garden my

body bleeds 

            soaks me through  

                      Birds drink from the     

                                            breaking bath I


Force my hand to wind the 'knob, lay me in

the flavor of your appetite and the waves

you break inside me. Faucets long

unscrewed quicken to heat, I burn my

throat on boiled, curdling cream; you trace

my element with your mouth. 


Pull these blinds on red rounds who

shout; a bottle bursts a lip and calls a

favour; I kiss your millstones before you

bolt the doors on every room; on every

level lounge sounds   

                      follow me 



These homes orange peel, unpolished; 

Someone else's muscle car is yours,

now. In your kitchen, I throw my keys in

a yellow bin, kiss your skin fridge the

frightening of my expiry And down a

glass of