- FREE: 20 Poets anthology
- 88: UNPRINTABLEwith J R Carpenter and B Laird (coming soon!) 87: DIFFICULTwith O Schwartz and H Isemonger(submit away!) 86: NO THEME VIIwith L Gorton 85: PHILIPPINESwith Mookie L and S Lua 84: SUBURBIAwith L Brown and N O'Reilly 83: MATHEMATICSwith Fiona Hile 82: LANDwith J Stuart and J Gibian 81: NEW CARIBBEANwith Vladimir Lucien 80: NO THEME VIwith Judith Beveridge 57.1: EKPHRASTICwith C Atherton and P Hetherington 57: CONFESSIONwith Keri Glastonbury 56: EXPLODE with Dan Disney 55.1: DALIT / INDIGENOUSwith M Chakraborty and K MacCarter 55: FUTURE MACHINES with Bella Li 54: NO THEME V with F Wright and O Sakr 53.0: THE END with Pam Brown 52.0: TOIL with Carol Jenkins 51.1: UMAMI with Luke Davies and Lifted Brow 51.0: TRANSTASMAN with Bonny Cassidy 50.0: NO THEME IV with John Tranter 49.1: A BRITISH / IRISH with M Hall and S Seita 49.0: OBSOLETE with Tracy Ryan 48.1: CANADA with K MacCarter and S Rhodes 48.0: CONSTRAINT with Corey Wakeling 47.0: COLLABORATION with L Armand and H Lambert 46.1: MELBOURNE with Michael Farrell 46.0: NO THEME III with Felicity Plunkett 45.0: SILENCE with Jan Owen 44.0: GONDWANALAND with Derek Motion 43.1: PUMPKIN with Kent MacCarter 43.0: MASQUE with Ann Vickery 42.0: NO THEME II with Gig Ryan 41.1: RATBAGGERY with Duncan Hose 41.0: TRANSPACIFIC with J Rowe and M Nardone 40.1: INDONESIA with Kent MacCarter 40.0: INTERLOCUTOR with Libby Hart 39.1: GIBBERBIRD with Sarah Gory 39.0: JACKPOT! with Sam Wagan Watson 38.0: SYDNEY with Astrid Lorange 37.1: NEBRASKA with Sean Whalen 37.0: NO THEME! with Alan Wearne 36.0: ELECTRONICA with Jill Jones
- Review Short: Shastra Deo’s The Agonist
- Review Short: Tracy Ryan’s The Water Bearer
- Review Short: Bulky News Press Chapbooks from Andrew Pascoe, Chris Brown and Marty Hiatt
- Review Short: Susan Hawthorn’s Dark Matters
- 12 Works by Sue Kneebone
- Introduction to NO THEME VII
- Bone Shame: Grief, Te Ao Māori and the Liminal Space where Translation Fails
- Re-imagining Place: A Psychogeographic Reading of Carmine Frascarelli’s Sydney Road Poems
- ‘Geelong checks its modernist warranty’
- John Ashbery’s Humane Abstractions
- Shattered Writing: Four Translated Valerie Mejer Caso Poems from Edinburgh Notebook
- Four Translated Laia Llobera i Serra Poems
- ‘We mirror what we see’: Holly Childs Interviews Cristine Brache
- President Donald J Trump at the Western Wall, Jerusalem 2017
- Diary Poem: Uses of Dreams
- Neutral Bay, New South Wales
- OK GOOGLE
- drawn, made.
- My Mothers, the avian …
- My Dream of Gary Snyder
- The Photographs
- How Mirror Stores Operate
- Invasion Day 2
- Should go outside more
- Letters to Accompany Four Movements for Two Pianos
In 1890, an American aeronaut named Millie Viola departs the Geelong showgrounds in a hot air balloon, in order to give an assembled crowd of onlookers a parachute jump display. Her ascension followed foiled attempts earlier in the week, but, according to the Geelong Advertiser’s archives, ‘Mademoiselle Viola’ at last ascends – to the gratification of ‘an increasingly dubious crowd’ – to around 5000 feet (1540 metres), and comes close to being swept into Corio Bay.
At the wedding he says I took my wife off the pill, it wasn’t easy. I say, Oh that’s terrible. (Imagine being a wife, being taken, taking off somehow, what kind of weight I don’t know— The men at work …
Hour of bright & dim; such stillness you could skate, crack to beneath – Circling out, not yet dark enough to watch traces of universe, blinking down. Only the glimmer & still. One last swerve & you are returned, the …
MTC Cronin’s ‘The Flower, the Thing’ is a favourite poem; one to which I often return. What strikes me immediately – and what stays with me – is its first word: ‘urgently’. That word sucks its reader in; it says that what comes after is ‘urgent’, is going to pull at you. It says, read on.
‘A few almond trees / had a few flowers, like a few snowflakes / out of the blue looking pink in the light’ —James Schuyler We sleep through its becoming, the growth a mimicry of ice & bud – Do …
Fittingly tiny by way of physical size, Captives is a beautifully produced collection of micro-fiction by the Melbourne author and critic Angela Meyer (known also as the blog writer, Literary Minded). While in a poetry-dedicated journal such as Cordite Poetry Review, it may seem odd to be reviewing a book that makes no explicit claims to being poetry – or, more specifically, the difficult-to-define mode of prose poetry – Meyer’s micro-fictions do seem to invite comparisons with contemporary prose poetry.
Frank O’Hara has a poem unambiguously and humorously titled ‘You Are Gorgeous and I’m Coming’. As pastiche or homage – even incidentally – the first two poems from the six-part sequence that opens Jill Jones’s stunning new collection The Beautiful Anxiety are titled: ‘1. Hold On’, and ‘2. I’m Coming’ (‘My Ruined Lyrics’). The present continuous tense of the verb ‘to come’ is thematically apt everywhere in this collection. Not only are poems throughout The Beautiful Anxiety sensual and frequented by moments of desire or quiet ecstasy, they are constantly ‘coming’ in the sense that they are arriving.
It is often interesting to read a poet’s work in relation to comments they’ve made about their own poetry (with whatever cautions you may wish to place upon such self-readings). Rebecca Law’s poem ‘Mirror and Girl’ was commended for the 2011 Overland Judith Wright Prize for New and Emerging Poets, and in an interview with the prize’s judge – poet, scholar and Overland’s poetry editor, Peter Minter – Law commented on her writing more generally: “I am reading Charles Baudelaire, Paul Verlaine, Victor Hugo and Paul Eluard because I am interested in the surreal, the symbolic and the sublime as romantic concepts that displace and liberate the word from a human preoccupation with living and dying. Contemporary French authors such as Michel Deguy, Philippe Beck and Jude Stefan transcend these concepts a little further and ‘follow’ language, allowing the word to ‘say’ rather than be ‘said’.”
After a line by Veronica Forrest-Thomson Slight kitchen views from white sheets —warmth of breath and skin— there are tile shapes in the lino, just enough window sun to mistake for a lit globe, a yellowing of day taking shape …
Rain streaks the window. Somehow her hair holds the smell of matches struck. The wind is loose around walls outside, tying itself up in trees (birch leaves soft as ash). She watches: breath showing and fading on glass. He said …