Have you ever seen a blind man throw? It’s funny like when my dad couldn’t see and threw me up up up into the sky and past the clouds and I put my hands out like a bird and a plane. And whoosh whoosh whoosh I went down into the earth with the worms and I wriggled like they wriggled in the ground down into the molten rock. My teacher said molten rock is hot and it is the colour of lava and lava is orange. I looked at my arm and said is this the colour of lava Miss? this is orange but there are bits of blue and black in it Miss and does lava hurt like this Miss? and I pressed on my lava arm and scrunched up my face like when I’m in the toilet and can’t do a poo but I’m not in the toilet so this is the scrunched up face of when I hurt. Miss said “Axel where did you get that bruise from?” and I said when I went flying with my dad Miss. Then Miss scrunched her face up but only the top part of her face because all I can see is the hair on the top of her eyes move closer together like when I go into my room and move my teddy bears closer together and their teddy bear hairs kiss each other and I say hush Bears hush, mummy and daddy are just talking very loudly but you go to sleep now with me. But when Miss’s eyebrows stopped kissing she didn’t answer my question about the lava but told everyone that it was colouring-in time except for Axel.

Have you ever seen a blind man drive? It's funny like when daddy got into the car and moved it so it could kiss our fence. But mummy didn't laugh because maybe she didn't see so I said mummy the car and our fence are kissing isn't it funny! She said, Lexa, not now OK go play and so I went and played but I couldn't play with daddy because mum went outside and started playing catch with him because I could see her throwing things to him but he couldn't catch it and then it went crash bang through the window. Mummy got so sad that the window was broken and she cried and cried and I cried and cried too because the window hurted me after it went crash bang and I blood everywhere and cry and cry and then a man came and said sweetie you'll be ok, we take you to the doctors now and they'll fix you right up eh? And he put me on a bed with WHEELS on it like a CAR and I want one like this in my room ok? But mummy didn't say anything except cry because then the man put me in a real car and it went e-o-e-o-e-o down the street and closed my eyes and I stopped hurting.

I stand in the kitchen

and listen

to the kettle b0il

And

Mother crying

And

Father silent

And

shattered

glass

on

the

kitchen

floor

Mum used to taste like mango, succulent and fleshy. That's how my dad fell in love with her. It's gross to think about it like that but you can't ignore the truth. And the truth is, mum was beautiful and tropical.

Dad used to say too bad fruit don't have a use by date stuck on 'em cause they sure as hell go off. Strange thing is, mum hasn't gone off, she just mutated into a lemon – don't ask me how. Touch her and she'll spit acid in your face dad says. I wish I knew her when she was still tropical.

Back in her mango days, she gave birth to a fruit salad. And when we lost our freshness, she said if I had known there was a use by date on fruit salad, I would not have given birth to you stinking pieces of useless shit. We must have inherited her genes cause that would explain how fruit can mutate into shit, just like when a mango becomes a lemon.

Originally, my brother was born a banana, his skin yellow and thick. He's a good kid cause even when he goes bruised and brown on the outside, he'd still edible on the inside. My sister is an orange, full of vitamin C and orange sweetness but I'd be careful not to pierce her skin if I were you. She can be just as bitter as my mum. And me? I'm the plastic wrapping on the bowl.

Made in Australia by a middle aged refugee in a garaged at the back of her three bedroom house in suburbia.

Do Not Tumble Dry as the thread at each hem, cuff and join was mindlessly cut by the seamstress's three children, each of whom would fume at the wasted labour when your shirt is shrunk, unwearable and discarded.

Hand Wash Only as she does for the delicate garments her children wears, even though this topples her over after sewing for 10 hours a day.

100% cotton, as 100% as the love she has for her children – the same love that drives her to work herself into a sad lonely insanity in a garage at the back of her three bedroom house in suburbia.

Alone was she, washing the bleeding lilies; dandruff floating in the bin.

Jailed was he, limp and useless; breathing behind a cardboard door.

Cry, I cry, crowing for my hunger; still I lay, on the floor.

In the rubbish we search for a mother. Found instead: dandruff floating in the bin.

A girl lies down on a bed of flowers that grows from dog piss. She opens the book from the middle and starts to read on the bed of flowers that grows from dog piss a girl reads book from the middle. A boy walks past the bed and brings a book to lie on the flowers of dog piss. A girl and a boy lie on a bed of flowers that grew from dog piss and kiss. Yellow flowers and yellow hair and yellow piss said the book from the middle. Said the book from the start yellow hair locks touch and kiss on the bed of yellow piss a woman and a man lie on a bed of flowers and kiss. Said the book at the end a girl lies down with an open read book and dies. A boy lies down on the bed of yellow piss and cries.

'Lily, you are the salt of the earth. You put so much flavour into my life!' mum used to say to me when I was little. And I would rub my fingers together all over her and marinate her with my imagination. Then one day, I lost my flavour. It was the same day that I lost my virginity.

'You're a little tasteless slut, get out of my house!' dad used to say to me when I was bigger. And I would put up my finger in his face and stab him in the heart with it. Then one day, he died. It was the same day that I was trampled underfoot by the men I was fucking.

1. IN THIS AGREEMENT, 'you', 'your', 'Egg and Sperm' and 'Unborn Child' refers to the Conception, 'we', 'us', 'our', shall refer the parents of the conception.

2. TERM OF AGREEMENT. This Agreement will be in effect from the instance that we, the parents, are aware of your existence. It will remain in effect after your birth and, should you die before us for any reason, the Agreement will not cease as it will serve as evidence of our commitment to you.

We, ___________(Name of Parent 1)________ of _________(Address of Parent 1)_________ and ___________(Name of Parent 2)________ of _________(Address of Parent 2)_________ hereby promise to love and care for you as long as we both shall live.

I, _________(Name of Parent 1)_________ hereby promise to:

□ Embrace you with affection and warmth after I've just come home from my second job, greased with sweat and torn with exhaustion.

□ Make you lunch.

□ Sit on our couch that smells of the earthy winter rain and listen to you cry, with a hole in your pants and a bruise on your eye.

□ Read you stories.

□ Scream and yell and fall to my knees when there are dishes in the sink and dust in the carpet and you are worthless just like that bastard.

□ Hug and kiss you goodnight.

□ Storm to the toolbox on the floor and beat it against the walls.

□ Love you with all my heart and

I, _________(Name of Parent 2)_________ hereby promise to:

□ Tell you tales from my childhood, of my country, my people, your history.

□ Chase you with a stick when you misbehaviour and smack you with reality.

□ Excite you with imagined gifts that appear from the palm of my hands.

□ Leave you.

□ Our promise, we promise, I promise.

□ I promise to love you for ever and ever □

□ Really? □

□ Of course babe. I'll buy us a house so we can live in it and do what ever we want whenever we want. You want that babe? □

□ Gosh, what a dream eh? A house of our own with a couch and bed and oh boy but my parents would never let me move out though. □

□ Are you marrying your parents or are you marrying me?□

□ Don't get like that ok? You know I wanna be with you. You're my world. □

□ Well then quit bringing up your fucken parents or get out now.□

From the outside, I could see two figures embracing, naked silhouettes navigating space in the back seat of the Vintage - a 1970 shit brown Ford Fairlane. I had christened the car 'Vintage' not because of the make or model, but because each time the car returned, I could see the rust that was gradually colonizing the rear panels. From the outside, I could see the suffocating springs finding air holes in the front seat and the fight between metal and rubber on the steering wheel. From the outside, I could see strong hands gliding across skin, touching and grabbing and pounding and

"What the fuck are you doing! Get away from ..."