Ivan Head: The Compost Heap
The Compost Heap
The compost heap lay steaming
like a large beast, exhausted
and stretched out on the ground.
It is still breathing, visibly
exhaling as it loses form
in giving itself back to the earth.
It is also the cow collapsing,
drawn into the weight of the earth.
A multitude of brown leaves and shredding returns to soil.
The pitchfork goes through the pile.
He also takes the spade to it
and tosses the heap closer to the line of pines.
The animal moves one last time.
I think it was McAuley who said that from the air Tasmania looked like damp hessian.
Ivan Head
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
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6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
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23 mins
A friend and longtime supporter of Quadrant, Clive James sent us a poem in 2010, which we published in our December issue. Like the Taronga Park Aquarium he recalls in its 'mocked-up sandstone cave' it's not to be forgotten
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2 mins