Drops of Jupiter by Train
My grandparents' garage, Reservoir, 2001 Alessandra Bergamin As I pressed rewind and play once more, Nonno abandoned his re-reading of Il Globo to shuffle across the tiles and play a game. Taking my hand into his own short, stout and tanned fingers, he gently twisted each of my fingertips from side-to-side. Tick-tock-tick-tock, he said, his Italian accent adding an extra vowel to the end of each word. Ticka-tocka-ticka-tocka.
Drums ‘n’ guitar. Poem by Martin H Samuel
Playful music poetry from Martin H Samuel
DUMB by NIRVANA. Story by Shome Dasgupta.
Sadness is what I know best and it continues to seek me out relentlessly. Its loyalty never fails.
Dumb Things by Paul Kelly Story by Tony Kelly
Tony Kelly Meredith Music Festival, December 2008 Snug in my carousel I rose above the din and lights and looked out over the gloaming. I swung back down towards the crowd and the squalor and then back up again. It was hypnotic.
EAGLE ROCK by DADDY COOL. Story by Tracy Peacock.
I’d never seen the Eagles play at the G and my pulse was racing.
EDGE OF SEVENTEEN by STEVIE NICKS. Story by Lisa Jewell
Lisa Jewell Loungeroom, Clarinda, Melbourne 1982 Mrs Rainer was a tyrant with a vacuuming fetish. She would make me take my shoes off before even looking at the carpet.