"i have seen the fish"

Posted on January 1, 2004 by Adam Ford

fish-based depression drug seen on market –
have you seen this fish?
to enter click here.
sepa noswa esw wosw.
have you seen this fish?
email us! email us!

i have seen whole schools of flying fish
become airborne as they try to escape
tuna which are hunting them.

the fish rap live!
(you should have seen what we left out)
sway sway sway last friday night,
the usual indie-rock.
the fish rap live!
(you should have seen what we left out)

no commute for you charlie padow,
no commute for you.
it looks like some old-fashioned hellraising
actually works every now and then.

valuable catfish could be in clinton lake.
are sharks considered to be fish?
do sharks only eat crabs?
do crabs successfully molt?
i've never seen a cast-off shell.

have you seen the fish that ernie kraut caught?
have you seen the fish that ernie kraut caught?
have you seen this fish?
outdoors.
have you seen this fish?

Posted in 16: SEARCH | Tagged

Super Gas Power Attack

Posted on January 1, 2004 by Adam Ford

you may designate which power binary will use
regardless of what base you attack.
you may use either or both of your powers.

there are dozens of power-ups
that make it into the gas guns.
use them to discover methane
on boss levels and attack the glass dome.

gas-giant wild.
super head.
attack card. skill type. power.
damage 2. guts. power point.

weapons and wielders use weapon power.
most often dispel a laughing-gas bomb.
the user attacks without his hands.

get around a super-patriots shield.
fusion power 'within reach'.
the electrically charged gas
in powerful magnetic super-lasers
advances fusioncloser to fusion power.

super giant monster power showdown!
super giant monster power showdown!

catching up to the power
of louder models is an improvement.
radiate and transmit
a power ball of acid spit.

3,000 day dream attack
puts your enemy into a super-nap.
use the”v” attack configuration.

snow attacks work fine on fire-based monsters.
time to raise defense power!
the fright-based attack will harm all foes.

makeup. sea anemone.
amoeba. gas-filled power.
radiate body. seaoba.
utilise its power.

Posted in 16: SEARCH | Tagged

Fatal Interview

Posted on January 1, 2004 by Michael Farrell

Over aggressiveness.
Tonight is another one of those nights
but then played by a string quartet
A lot of the documents have been sent to me
reveals his addiction to hard-core pornography and
We take a look at Australia via six key themes
the one thing that sticks out where
here is to introduce new talent and give them the right exposure.
I would say plain Rock ‘n’ Roll with good harmonies
I think she is truly one of the most amazing characters on TV
smooth over what they consider to be her “rough edges.”
a man who, over the course of three decades
I love music and and shoot to
Always, victims mentioned the gun's peculiar safety

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"ceci n’est pas une googly"

Posted on January 1, 2004 by Michael Farrell

ROCK… Heart Bridge… Cliches… Dictionary… … THESE FOOLISH THINGS
(Love Words)… QUARTET… ROCK N'ROLL. 33. … … WACA: An Australian
Success Story… Somebody Else: Arthur in Africa 1880-91… for success in
manly outdoor sports, such as football and.” One might … considerato da
molti il … … At bottom, I was looking for a successor to Laforgue, and
Whitman … 120 degrees Fahrenheit, The doctors Grant and Perry play
cricket, Railroads crawl … is everywhere apparent in Rimbaud's work It is
a technique we can see him using in all the school exercises, and then
continuing to use. … Cricket Voice. … in the wood. Behind her the tower
room is as cold as stone in the half-light, and a chirps shrilly in a
crevice. Out over … … espace de liberte et c'est pour cela qu'il peut se
permettre de parler sur tout: Oscar Wilde, Pinocchio-c'est vident que
Jiminy Cricket avait sa … … you may add to it. The French symbolist poet
was what you might call an early developer. In pursuit of a decadent … …
books): The Power of Un by Nancy Etchemendy (Front Street/Cricket
Books,…, (stories): Letting Go of the Earth (Be … … transfiguring
rugby into something approaching an art form – Rambo turned – but there …
so obviously wanted to win and running up a score against …

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writer’s block drowns the capital in tears

Posted on January 1, 2004 by Cassie Lewis

We are ugly, but we are here
with our poems for an unknown battle
and literary news in buzzwords. Three am.
Elders should be washed back and scarlet.
A manhole cover lifts open. Arturo laughs
so loudly he drowns the sound of the battle.
Wordlessly, he drowns the rest of his ale.
This collection of stories came from the writer's
experience and you don't need a room full of Italian furniture
to get the words down on paper.
Speech follows speech. The feminization of gun debate
drowns as long as the guitar drowns
in the capital.

Posted in 16: SEARCH | Tagged

Carlie Lazar: A Prank Call To John Howard

Posted on January 1, 2004 by Cordite Poetry Review

i hate john howard's galaxy:
howard reads kc's essay
and then sings along to some rammstein.

do you call this working hard?

we're not a spontaneous celebration
of your amusing prank
or, as the more politically
correct call it, playing ring toss
with australian prime minister
john howard's “big guy.”

howard, as a 1950's cowboy
with his best friend lacey rawlins;
leaves texas and heads south of the border
to find work breaking horses.

for, you see, we know john howard isn't a robot:
stuttering john loves the olsen twins.

hurdy gurdy man howard brings the world together.
john howard's political career has been based on
steering australia towards the occasional prank call:
“is your refrigerator running?”

computer virus writer howard sings a tribute to diana
to the tune of elton john's candle in the wind.

newsmen shouldn't blame howard for the funny ass prank
where this guy with a weird accent tests the limits
of take-out food orders. guy drowns grandpa, prank call.
hilarious.

“have you ever felt guilty after pulling a prank call
only to discover that it was a quote of the week?”

“all the time.”

yeah? well, it really happened.

john, call and tell us all that it was all just a prank.

Posted in 16: SEARCH |

Foreword

Posted on January 1, 2004 by David Prater

Armed Conflict in the 21st Century:
The Information Revolution

Redefining “critical work” in our students, and, ironically, in the
Name of France, our aim is to insert left margins into what we have
Here, both in teacher-student and theorist. Here the poem serves as the
Organized chronology and alphabet. If in internet hyperfiction there is
No sense of time, then the reader must insert his or her own foreword.
We are merely recognising and playing with descriptions of law, music,
And other performing arts. The bricoleur is not a self-conscious
Theorist but will provide insights into how we behave here. The author
Of the foreword to this book of poems, interestingly, remains all too
Prone to utter such phrases as “ecofeminist activist and theorist”.
While much that passes in the name of poetry is merely postmodernism
(and we provide an example here) the objective is just as much to
Promote organizational analysis, which has already borrowed from
Deconstruction, poststructuralism, and the postmodern itself. Anchors
Contain a parent which allows the first three “destinations” to appear
On the title page. This is actually the quantum states. What the hell
Are they? In terms of the discussion above, even if somewhat out of
Context here, you can see a trace of it in “similar pages”.

Posted in 16: SEARCH | Tagged

Search Poems: Introduction by Cassie Lewis

Posted on January 1, 2004 by Cordite Poetry Review

The Poem of the Day Project on the email discussion list Poetry Espresso started in December 2001, as a result of discussions on the list about starting our own anthology. Andrew Burke initially suggested the concept. We produced a 13-month series of anthologies each with a different editor, who selected a poem for each day of that month. Once per day a poem was posted to the list, often resulting in discussion. Some months there were fewer submissions, but the maximum was, obviously, 31 poems.

Continue reading →

Posted in FEATURES | Tagged ,

Martin Downey Reviews Bruce Dawe

Posted on December 16, 2003 by Martin Downey

Towards a War by Bruce DaweTowards a War: Twelve Reflections by Bruce Dawe
Picaro Press, 2003

This suite of poems provides a remarkable insight into the troubled times that Australia, and the rest of the world, are only now beginning to realize. It is not the charitable/humanist/philanthropic gesture made by both poet and publisher (see Postscript) through this collection of poems that drives me to speak of Bruce Dawe's latest writings. It is that these poems, both singularly and collectively, are presented by a poet who speaks with a voice of experience, the benefit of hindsight and a vision of events that may come to pass. Undoubtedly caused by these intemperate times, it has enabled him to craft such finely-wrought pieces. Continue reading →

Posted in BOOK REVIEWS | Tagged ,

David Prater Interviews Justin Treyvaud

Posted on December 9, 2003 by David Prater

Justin Treyvaud and Bec Lean published a literary journal by the name of mod_piece for two years between October 2001 and October 2003. A grand total of 22 issues were produced in this time (because they took January off each year, like real Australians). We got the goss on this unique mag in an exclusive interview.

CORDITE: Why didn't you call it cod_piece?

Continue reading →

Posted in INTERVIEWS | Tagged ,

Martin Downey Reviews Andrew Zawacki

Posted on November 25, 2003 by Martin Downey

By Reason of Breakings by Andrew Zawacki
University of Georgia Press, 2002

According to the hyperbole contained on the back cover of this fine-looking book, I was about to embark on a wonderful journey through 'widlerness littered with petrochemical and astrophysical artifacts (sic) -' and with 'the sweep of its cadences, its powers of invention, its amazing subtle intelligence' &#151 amongst other things &#151 set to allow my 'soul' to 'squint' at 'meticulously recorded landscapes'. Unfortunately, this book as a whole, did no such thing for me. A shame, really, as the book was 'winner of the contemporary poetry series competition'. Just whose, I do not know, as there was no further illumination of this fact. Continue reading →

Posted in BOOK REVIEWS | Tagged ,

dance culture & negativity

Posted on November 10, 2003 by Michael Farrell

 theyre cutting holes in our rhythms you go out you wear a cool
     on the couch half dead eyes like
 taps to the music the unknown celebrity strikes the fizz its the last
     night of disobedience compulsion rains over the
    few language of the losers the language of the other stretched beyond
     comparison what can anyone do throw goo another
   rare interview growing of dance the negative monotone underlies
     the beat everything a glass the adage lives where its quiet
    reclined to think an s is lost dry heart & nostrils on fire
     the summer begins & ends in a
      at danceteria the animals in flight barmen tear shreds off the
     the hilt doing jlo till our joints wear out
            haha stimuli admit handbag & you left your heart inside he caught
     you reading ts eliot he made you october

    now its cold july the light follows footstep progress
      a djs kiss is still a kiss mask a
   haiku sticks to your shoe they werent just cool
    on the couch half dead music the celebrity strikes
       the hairdryer in the sink to little effect but
    fizz its the last night matisse figures in black
     & white the language of the losers do throw
   goo another rare interview growing bananas a form of

   dance the negative monotone makes it impossible to drink
    from a glass the adage lives where its quiet
      reclined to think an s is lost drift golden
 shirt for hire with dry heart & nostrils on
   fire a flame cow monkey whats the difference richard
         geres the apple in the in flight barmen
    tear shreds off the language
  & mock all theyve gots
      frottage our joints wear out
    haha stimuli admit it that
      boy stole your handbag &
     you left you want to die that was in
           mild october now its cold july the light a
    kiss more or less goodbye theyre cutting holes in
  our rhythms wear a goat mask a haiku sticks
 to your shoe they werent just cool on the
    couch half dead eyes like the unknown celebrity strikes
     the hairdryer in the sink to little effect but
           fizz its the last night of disobedience compulsion rains
   over the few the language of the other stretched
  beyond comparison what can anyone do throw a form
      of dance the negative monotone underlies the beat everything
  beaks make it impossible a glass the adage lives
    where its quiet reclined to think for hire with
      dry heart & nostrils on fire the summer begins
  & ends with a flame cow monkey whats the

    difference richard geres the apple in danceteria the animals in flight
 barmen tear shreds off the language & mock all theyve the
  hilt doing jlo till our joints wear out haha stimuli admit
        it that boy stole your handbag & you left ts eliot
 he made you want to die that was in mild less
      goodbye theyre cutting holes in our rhythms you go out mask
     a haiku sticks to your shoe they werent just cool on
      the couch half dead music the unknown celebrity strikes the hairdryer

     in the sink to little effect but
 fizz its of disobedience compulsion rains over
  the few matisse figures in black &
   white the language of the losers the
     language of the form of dance the
   negative monotone underlies the beat everything beaks
  make it impossible to drink from a
     glass the lost in the general drift
 golden shirt for hire with dry heart
    & a flame cow monkey whats the

  difference richard geres the
 apple in the barmen
     tear shreds off the
    language & mock all
          theyve gots frottage silver

    gear golden beers madeup to the stimuli admit it that boy
          the wardrobe another night at danceteria the animals in flight barmen

Posted in 15: GLITTER | Tagged

The Lake

Posted on November 10, 2003 by Joanna Preston

Sullen this morning,
grey, and dull as the eye
of one more dead thing.

How casually waves
slap the shore,

leave it shocked,
open mouthed
and silent.

The pier braced
against the lake

is the cowed spine
of a beaten woman,
the booted feet

of fishermen
on her shoulder-blades,

lures of bright metal
glittering like promises
through weed and rocks.

May the wind change
to the south,

snag his line
around branches
and submerged roots,

pale fingers tangled
in deep water

he’d said:
“It could swallow me.
I would sink and sink

and never touch
the heart of this lake…”

Posted in 15: GLITTER | Tagged

Wedding

Posted on November 10, 2003 by Philip Hammial

The groom is saddled up & ready to go, the best man holding the reins while the bride's father helps the equestrienne up into the saddle. Has she ever ridden before? It's the kind of question one doesn't ask. But we'll soon know. Her lace-fringed wedding dress lifted to show her well-turned ankles & there are the spurs, spiked stars that, without a moment's hesitation, as if she's done it a thousand times before, she jams into the groom's rump.
 

Well-wishers showering them with confetti, they're off at a gallop.

Posted in 15: GLITTER | Tagged

Pop Crush (stickypink remix)

Posted on November 10, 2003 by Emilie Zoey Baker

Secretly,
I am in love with pop music.
I don’t want to be,
I’m trying not to think about it,
but at night I see exposed stomachs
glitter red silhouettes dancing
popcorn punk fanta funk.
Sequins spin and lyrics lick kittens.
The mic is a toy
rippling low blue jean dreams
leans and hands clam to memory.
Pop music,
with its cute approach to lust
and its candy heart sweetness,
it’s got me
bang
in
the
gut.
I go to bed at night humming lyrics and wake up with the tunes spinning
right round baby right round in my head.
I moan NA NA na na na na na na na na….
I dream in lycra and glitter and everyone is wearing lip gloss.
Pop music is like a warm blanket on a cold dancefloor,
its bouncing ball lyrics and tender soft toy drums comfort me.

I’ve tried talking to pop music,
I tell it we really have nothing in common,
that we don’t have the same friends,
we don’t go out to the same places.
But with its blossoming
soft perky pink pant suit porn
and its shimmering smile and catchy chorus I can’t help but be hooked.
I need it, I want it.
I carry around a mini radio in the hope that my sugar lover will appear.
When it does, I smile teenager.
If I hear my pop music coming out of a shop I stop
and pretend to browse mid drift tops and try on sparkling rings.
It plays my heart like a rubber band.
I just snap crackle and pop music.

I expect we will break up soon, I’m already losing friends,
they have started to call me top 40 behind my back.
It has taken over my hips on any dance floor and filled my belly with Disney magic.
Its classically perky and so beautifully obvious, that’s its thing.
Pop music, my secret lover, my clean and
highly commercialized weakness,
I want you so bad
but I must be strong.
I turn over a new leaf
and fill my ears with toilet paper at shopping malls;
I listen to Radio National
so there is no chance of ever running in to you on my stereo.
I hide my diamante tops in high cupboards
and throw away my pink Barbie running shoes.
But
I am lost without you,
I must admit
that I just cant get you out of my head.

Posted in 15: GLITTER | Tagged

Caligula’s Barges

Posted on November 10, 2003 by Brett Dionysius

All pleasure is bitter ash.
His least known extravagances lay sunken.
For a thousand years, fish attached soft eggs
to gold trim decks, womb-grey walls harboured
young generations, black-striped, brown
chequered juveniles strode gangways, beat up
on interspecies rivalries; evolution’s fascism.
The next emperor wanted some of this too.
Drained lakes of blood to get the real thing;
Caligula’s pleasure barges, hulls sundered
his excesses housed in concrete bunkers.
The other prince (darker one) having
lost his fun with things Italian; burned them.
The SS unimpressed; seahorse as senator.

Posted in 15: GLITTER | Tagged

Glitterbulb

Posted on November 10, 2003 by Cinzia Cavallaro

A fillet of hips.
A pink tongue for independence.
A spiked heel causing three-quarter mishaps.
A stomach in an eyebrow raised.
A hyper-extended crimp of hair, like Streisand on drugs.

Jenny and Ben are getting it on in her smooth, black Benz.
Boot polishers all gummy and tar chasing the flashbulb, but! like
Zadie told Alex to say; “I prefer to think of it as a business.” Amen.

Posted in 15: GLITTER | Tagged

I Woke Up ‘n Vomit ‘n Beer

Posted on November 10, 2003 by Christopher Barnes

'n all there the Gobi grappling my blazer
'n all there the sunspots wheeling like rissoles
'n all there the dawn chorus bumping up its lungs

'n the blue-glum fixator is all defeatist
'n won't cheep of the aesthetic mould
'n she blinked in arithmetic morning minutes

'n fiver colliers went on errands to a slot machine
'n eight dockers went to skate in a kibbutz
'n two she-men went bye-byes in a hard wood
'n one drudge croaked on an operating platform

'n the frantic raver is bitterly happy-fast
'n you'll never savvy how prolonged
the gasometer grown-up was
'n the bird's eye saga's on the stump of a bat

'n impressive the schnauzers cocking their legs
'n impressive the buffalo gnats discoing the loop-de-loop
'n impressive the bacteria cells tampering with ice cream

'n the sober-wits crow is chased loony toon by details
'n the one-two-three slowness of the arrow of time
'n the sunrise's energy balance on the puck of a bat

Posted in 15: GLITTER | Tagged

After the Raise

Posted on November 10, 2003 by Paul Mitchell

Cornflakes boxes muesli bags rice bubbles,
theme from Arthur leaks from the ceiling—
Arthur he does what he pleases/all of his life
his master’s toy/—
I lift my eyes past
Savings brand blue and white stripes
to Coles Farmland’s fat red stamps,

/he’s showin’ himself a pretty good time/—

Walking down the aisle, one hand on the cart,
passed glitter and plastic, my head held up
to top row cordials. Cottees, deeper green
than a winter lawn – I’ll have that one.
And look at my son: standing on the trolley bow,
chest out, a little Macarthur, sucking a Chup-a-Chup,

/he’s wondering to himself, hey, what have I found?/—

The girl on the Inside Sport cover, she’s looking
at me. Undressed and undressing me,

/When you get caught between the moon and New York City/—

I’ll take any number you like. But not the square ham.
I’ll take six slices of Honey Leg Ham. And, yes, there will
be something else, thanks—/I know it’s crazy, but it’s true/—

Eighty dollars seventy five! The cost of living–
No, I don’t have Fly Buys. Never been on a plane.
Give me a form, yeah, I’ll fill it out. Wouldn’t mind
taking the boy to Sydney, see what I can buy.
Maybe see the Opera House. They say
some days it looks like it might sail right out
into the Harbour then keep on going—

When you get caught between the moon
and New York City/the best that you can do/
the best that you can do/the best that you can do . . .

Posted in 15: GLITTER | Tagged

Bling Fling Thing

Posted on November 5, 2003 by Emilie Zoey Baker

[audio:http://cordite.org.au/audio/ezb_bling.mp3]
Emilie Zoey Baker
Bling Fling Thing

It’s booty time, with our unofficial Glitter Queen, Emilie Zoey Baker, strutting her tuff words audibly in mp3 format. Recorded by our former audiovisual editor, Sean M Whelan, this track will soon have you humming along like you’ve known the words for years.

Posted in GUNCOTTON | Tagged ,

Brentley Frazer Reviews Rebecca Edwards

Posted on October 6, 2003 by Brentley Frazer

Scar Country by Rebecca Edwards
UQP, 2000

Scar Country contains poems recognisable from Edwards' early Metro Press publication, Eating the Experience. Her editors are to be commended for including these early poems, as they serve as an excellent introduction to the texts of a fine and strong Australian poet, even as we familiarise ourselves with her self-exploratory, anatomical style of writing. Continue reading →

Posted in BOOK REVIEWS | Tagged ,

Matt Hetherington Reviews Sea Peach

Posted on October 5, 2003 by Matt Hetherington

Sea Peach by Catherine Kidd & Jack Beetz
Conundrum Press, Montreal, 2002

Someone (not a New Zealander) once told me that there used to be a TV program in the old NZ similar to the Australian show 'That's Amazing!', but which was actually called 'That's Quite Interesting!'. Well, whether that's true or not, that's what I thought after I read this book and listened to the accompanying CD. And that's about all I thought really. The whole thing went through me like a can of Coke: sweet and easy while you're taking it in, very familiar and kinda comforting, but not long afterwards, you say to yourself, 'What do I really want?'
Continue reading →

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Moses Iten Reviews Ian Ferrier

Posted on September 28, 2003 by Moses Iten

Exploding Head Man by Ian Ferrier
Planete rebelle (CD, Montreal, Canada), 2000

4AM and the walk home laced with an icy rain. This line begins Ian Ferrier's Exploding Head Man, the author's wild, Canadian environment making itself felt right from the outset of this journey that is both physical and philosophical. From Montreal to Baja &#151 Canada to Mexico &#151 Ferrier's work is a road trip of fire and ice, passing under the desert sun and ploughing through snow storms.

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Posted in BOOK REVIEWS | Tagged , , ,

Anna Hedigan surveys Australian journals on the web

Posted on September 23, 2003 by Cordite Poetry Review

Print journals in Australia are not web-savvy. They're mostly hip to the notion that they need a web presence but most sites betray little or no idea of who is reading them, or what information those readers might want. You don't need a focus group and expensive consultancies to work these issues out, but I suspect most print journals haven't even sat down with a texta and butchers' paper to map the content of these sites, much less refined them as a real tool for broadening their buying and reading audiences. For the most part, these sites look like they've been generated by the (Mac) monkey with the typewriter.
Continue reading →

Posted in ESSAYS, FEATURES | Tagged ,