Soldier Settlement
Our neighbour gave us his Bulletins
When he had finished with them
And my mother put them in the oven
Before they could be read.
(Which is why I always remember
Those tall pink covers charred.)
My mother said he lived alone
In his wooden two-roomed hut—
Bed bugs and lice would no doubt lurk
In any house like that.
But now I know she baked them
Because, as all the mothers knew,
Joe Hutchens was certainly not well
And what he touched was probably unclean.
He coughed and spat all through the night
Blood and pus around his bed
Out of lungs damaged by poison gas
Breathed in at a battle on the Somme.
Mae Vanderschaar
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.
Aug 29 2024
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
Aug 20 2024
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
Aug 16 2024
2 mins