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Recent Posts
- An interview with M. F. McAuliffe
- An interview with Brendan Ryan
- Work: A Cordite-Prairie Schooner Collaboration
- Submissions for Cordite 38: Sydney extended
- Cordite 37: No Theme! is now online
- No! Theme! Editorial!
- What’s possible between us
- Thoughts
- Things Wong Kar-Wai Taught Me About Love, Part 2
- The Goulburn Cricket Club Love Song
Recent Comments
- Kate Middleton on Again
- Elwin Monteiro on Fathers
- jennifer Chrystie on Again
- Kerry on Things Wong Kar-Wai Taught Me About Love, Part 2
- Brendan on The Man on the Gate
- Angie Duke on Temperature
- stuart barnes on How to Love Bronwyn
- Sergio Holas on Cafe Paradiso
- Dhyan on Five O’Clock at the River
- Kathryn on Brendan Ryan: Shakepeare Didn’t Play Guitar
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Recent Tweets
- @IvyAlvarez south err lee? about 11 hours ago in reply to IvyAlvarez
- It's great to see so many warm and generous comments on the poems in our current issue. Share the love! http://t.co/WZxu1Bsc about 22 hours ago
- Work: A Cordite-Prairie Schooner Collaboration: http://t.co/vGxSlRBW about 1 day ago
- Oh, look at that, 500 tweets! UNTOLD! about 1 day ago
- @TheSchooner - the feature looks great! Will be spreading the word today. Big thanks to Kwame, Marianne and the editorial and design team! about 1 day ago in reply to TheSchooner
CONTRIBUTORS
joanne burns
Ethelred Malley: Soil: A Nocturne
for my late cousin Ernest A bleat of lambs on Junee’s naïve hills, a kind of white foam in the dark; the clash and slam of locomotive carriages: stubborn cymbals of the Gods or an ordinary torment? Such hyperbolic music, …
Custom/Made Editorial
The production line has not been idle at the Cordite Industrial Park on Bespoke Drive. Here are 44 poems that engage with the rubric of Custom/Made in a diverse range of text and articulations – poems that have often been 'made' by employing quirky and sprightly strategies in response to the subject.
joanne burns: lure
she wasn't to be found in the list. his eyes darted down the long line of the 'c's : chevron barracuda chimaera cigar wrasse clown toby comet convict surgeon fish coronation cod. he even ventured into the 'd's in case …
joanne burns: no disguises
i. god laughs on as his mulberry shoes skylark down george street misunderstanding shreds the air like a flaming galah, the skate boarders flash by in mercurial currents loud as the rocks of thrace ii. he sang to …
joanne burns: textile
the tram lingered in another century locked in hearts betrothed to other echoes more exquisite than a hamburger's flip they had exchanged tickets for heart beats what if the absence of encyclopaedias were an impediment they would sway in the …
joanne burns: pasture
the buffet bar had only iced corned beef and pickle sandwiches it was a boring novel it needed a better murder and more full stops the ticket inspector carried a blue rubbish bag in his other hand, and heated pasties …
joanne burns: road
i have nothing exciting to tell you mostly they were friendly but some people looked through me the juice of the lime is no longer fresh i have never before seen myself as a window when the bus travels this …
Sylvia Malley: bestseller
Sylvia Malley is a cousin of the late Australian poet Ern Malley. She is the daughter of Ern's cousin, Morris Malley. The Ern Malley literary scandal caused the Malley family to fear poetry for many decades. However, Sylvia, a Malley inheritrix, could not avoid the family's innovative poetic genes, and one lunchtime while browsing through the Australian Poetry shelf in Dymock's Bookstore, George Street Sydney, she discovered Ern's poetic oeuvre in the Penguin Book of Modern Australian Poetry [ed.Tranter/Mead]. Since then she has become an avid reader of contemporary Australian Poetry and a closet poet herself. Through her internet browsings she discovered that the on-line poetry journal 'cordite' was seeking submissions for a 'Children of Ern Malley' issue, so she decided to take a chance with one of her recent poems. Sylvia works as an optometrist in the business district of Sydney. In recent years she has become a keen harbour ferry spotter. She lives in Manly.
joanne burns: pluck
that's my last master hanging on the wall he had it framed one week before, i pressed the button and the photo slid out from my side, a slit like the one made in jesus on the day he died …
joanne burns: perspex at noon
joanne burns is a sydney writer. her latest collection of poetry is 'footnotes of a hammock' [Five Islands Press 2004].
joanne burns: ring
joanne burns is a sydney writer. her latest collection of poetry is 'footnotes of a hammock' [Five Islands Press 2004].
joanne burns: story board
joanne burns is a sydney writer. her latest collection of poetry is 'footnotes of a hammock' [Five Islands Press 2004].
Joanne Burns: Thump
bright flag of insincerity wearing your speil like a fake bow tie who ever wrote your speeches pigged out on the punctuation we pause we pause we pause twiddling with the hearing aids seems the way to go; bibles are …
Joanne Burns: Mallography
this is the bookstall proud as a plaza for people who don't much like books but find them easy to gift wrap one hundred and fifty risotto recipes fruit salad around the world poodle fun and head ache management tomorrow …
Joanne Burns: Bug
take it from here: the sky and its rattles just amnesia's litter the three day order waiting above the cook top essential ingredients lost to the pen's failing muscle: negotiations for an egg cup of freshly squeezed ink never seem …




