CONTRIBUTORS

Jini Maxwell

Jini Maxwell is a writer and curator based in Naarm. They are currently working on their first poetry collection, Summer Animal.

Thirteen ways of watching Dr Phil with you

I.     Today on Dr Phil, we are identical twins. You have a fetish for clowns, and I have a phobia of clowns. We live together for some reason in a city where clowns are readily available. II.     Today on Dr Phil, a …

Posted in 110: POP | Tagged

GAME Editorial

As we write this, we are living in cities that are both in lockdown. Our days see us bouncing from one device to another, room to room to room.

Posted in ESSAYS | Tagged ,

Submission to Cordite 102: GAME

A game is an environment navigated by apparent rules and structured by invisible rules. All of these (and the game) can be broken if you know where to look.

Posted in GUNCOTTON | Tagged , ,

Get Ready with Me: 6 Poems by Jini Maxwell

in the record of another time zone / perfection is inevitable – we are waiting

Posted in CHAPBOOKS | Tagged

a clown car named desire

spending a summer afternoon eating a box of cherries in bed is arguably a very sexy thing to do unlike drinking red bull in the shower, which is the other meal i had today writing a love poem is like …

Posted in 91: MONSTER | Tagged

bay city plaza

six am: sea intervening fog. Ropes slick round the cleats in their binds and the dock sits, sunk like an old dog. They say a good body is hard to find. It’s seven now. I’ve had braver days. Last night, …

Posted in 87: DIFFICULT | Tagged

The Closet Opens by Degrees

This is the year I make reparations to my sixteen-year-old self. I am closing every Messenger window, burning her school kilt, and letting the wool smoke choke everyone. I am retreading sixteen like a warpath: I demand to be kissed …

Posted in 84: SUBURBIA | Tagged

How to treat your ghosts:

It’s not the case that we can’t seal it in; we can contain them. I dust the rafters and pour your cereal. You drink tisane, always something with peppermint. When it starts, we coast around their moaning tides quite gently, …

Posted in 66: OBSOLETE | Tagged