CONTRIBUTORS

Lucy Dougan

Lucy Dougan's books include White Clay (Giramondo) and Meanderthals (Web del Sol). Her latest book, The Guardians (Giramondo), won the 2016 Western Australian Premier’s Book Award for Poetry. She works for The China Australia Writing Centre at Curtin. With Tim Dolin, she is co-editor of The Collected Poems of Fay Zwicky (UWA Publishing, 2017).

Chapter One: in which Edward survives in a sandwich

When, in the franchise, Edward becomes wraith-like you are inconsolable. I make you school sandwiches with blood-red sauce and polony. With the sauce I draw a love heart and embellish its middle with a cursive ‘E’. There, I say, for …

Posted in 91: MONSTER | Tagged

The Wild Workshop: The Ghost of a Brontëan Childhood in the Life of Dorothy Hewett

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The Claphams

Lord and Lady Clapham are tired, and let’s face it, enwreathed in a genteel decrepitude. They’ve lodged in the small houses with the people so long now. Little people are the ones that caused the most perturbation even though Lord …

Posted in 57.1: EKPHRASTIC | Tagged

Lucy Dougan Reviews Louise Nicholas

Louise Nicholas’s The List of Last Remaining very satisfyingly brings together a substantial body of her work. Its five, intelligently ordered sections each rise up to enact their shimmering, persuasive world and then fade out to make way for the next. As the author herself notes in the poem ‘Picture’, there is ‘something filmic’ afoot here.

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After You Shout

After you shout at the child we drive past pine branches stacked on the side of the road and I want to make a home of these materials in which she can live. You will be faraway or incommoded as …

Posted in 49.0: OBSOLETE | Tagged

Crawling Across Tram Tracks: Extracts from Volumes 5 & 6 of Fay Zwicky’s Journal

Fay Zwicky tells the story that in the early weeks of 2005, in the aftermath of the Indian Ocean tsunami, she was invited as one of WA’s ‘Living Treasures’ to write a public poem about the disaster, and to read it at the opening of the Perth International Arts Festival. She declined. It was too soon, she thought. This was ‘not a time for poems’ – was it? But already the politicians had weighed in with their ‘fine abstractions’ and preachers were parading their concern. Perhaps it was important, after all, to come out and speak with the words of the tribe about ‘true guilt’ that is ‘tongueless’.

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