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Jill Jones

Jill Jones

About Jill Jones

Jill Jones has published nine full-length books of poetry including Breaking the Days, The Beautiful Anxiety, which won the 2015 Victorian Premier’s Literary Award for Poetry, and Ash is Here, So are Stars. Her work is represented in major anthologies including the Macquarie PEN Anthology of Australian Literature and The Penguin Anthology of Australian Poetry. In 2014 she was poet-in-residence at Stockholm University. She is a member of the J.M. Coetzee Centre for Creative Practice, University of Adelaide.

The Storm

The storm catches on the door. It’s a good sign, a surge that’s more than breathing, that blows away dirt from reliquaries, and directions from their careful signs. It’s near speech and near trembling, sky bringer fate crowning from its …

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My Skeptic Tremor

Perhaps I require revolution rather than mending day or need to get back to my ill channels, disinterest, a fetish or two and a more obvious sin than procrastination. Force is never equal, not in my calculations, nor is severance …

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Seven Formulas of Method

1. Data: Sun on the right hand Sand fun this roght hend Sent an tho rught hind Sin ends thumb raght hond Song in that reght hund 2. Mix: on the right sand / sent behind / thumbs end rage …

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In Flight Entertainment

‘no more blues’, that’s not a promise there’s no traction or policy in the blues all those bars are too long a cycle to make for twittering views no more plaints or graces no thanks, ‘watch and listen carefully’ enhanced …

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Bearing False Witness

Stories of the heat rise above the boards and the walls bounce them, like lies. Walls are made of stuff that hides from me, those measurements, the mason’s spans. Dust is the choke, and across vision there’s a bar. I …

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In My Shifts

I come in with language I come out of. Its weed, its shrill bugs. A harvest, a rot, a dervish. Cooked into night. Swum from beginnings. Patterns at the bottom of a pool. Something that doesn’t fit. That shifts and …

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Asks

What’s it like to be refurbished tackled or finger-printed? It’s not something you can ask but I’m asking. What is it like to be watched waited, frisked? Whenever I worry about my suit my transparency, I don’t think of brightness …

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‘All truth is crooked, time itself is a circle.’

You’re diagnosed with an incurable illness. You meet someone at a support group. They teach you how to tango. You both undergo a miracle cure. They become a vampire. Your tests come back clear. You delete their photograph. You change …

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Compositions

Some days are white staring deep into surfaces where tides push shores, sand climbs mountains. The new border is sometimes vague though flamboyant and ever mercantile. There’s boredom in the banlieue, middle management cadres deal in non-core activities. It’s all …

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Becoming Crystal

at Te Moeka o Tuawe (Fox Glacier) I take my stone heart to the river, it moves with all the other stones. I slip and shear, ribs crack like ice that makes of the river gravel and gold schist and …

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Coot Observes the Trashing of Venus in Tahiti

This deal prov’d as favourable to our push as we could witness, not a Clutter was to be seen the whole deal and the Airship was perfectly clear, so that we had every advocate we could detail in Observing the …

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A Minuscule Map of the Country

(discounting the Coriolis effect) The antipodean plug lies in a pool, like any other plug, any other pool, where breasts dunk and voices drown with the universal two-bob watch. Nonetheless, a garden gnome or a kangaroo shadow is plastered into …

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