Jak Kirwin


as dust grows in shadow

so a man retreats into himself

and sometimes he queries

where would he wander 

were he the last living thing

on this cold rock, formed from

sweat, bone, blood and salt?


to take leave of his lovers

to take up the tools, the brushes,

the paints, the weapons and 

the words left behind by every

artisan and sadist who fought

tooth and nail to leave some

dent upon the iron chin of God


there is never an ending which 

satisfies or satiates the melting heart 

of a man’s ambitions, no recognition

or reward which relinquishes the 

desire to build and break down, and 

to shred the self and spread its confetti

amongst the piglets and the ravens


the last man would find himself

aching and gasping, crawling

towards a field of mint, and when

the air inside his head becomes too

stale to think, the poor creature 

would roll over and return to his

wife and his child and the collective

psychosis which keeps him safe

Jak is a Brisbane based writer and poet with an interest in introspective work using nature as a conduit. His poetry has appeared in Glass, ScratchThat, Blue Bottle Journal & InkBlot Magazine. His prose has appeared in Wet Dreamz Journal.