Ali Jane Smith



Clodhopping

Cut a hole through the ceiling, the insulating batts, tin sheets. Climb out that way, spacetime jelly-wobbles. I might revisit the demolished pub, say something else at the rock pool decline the offer of a garden tour, take my plate …

Posted in 57.0: CONFESSION | Tagged

Review Short: David Brooks’s Open House

In Open House, David Brooks makes it look easy. These poems appear to be simply set down, flawless panes of glass framing scenes from a life. For the attentive reader, however, even one who doesn’t know the extent of Brooks’s work as a poet, a novelist, an editor, a translator, a researcher and writer of books about other poets and poetries, there are clues to the years of deep thinking, constant writing and serious, engaged living that Brooks brings to his own practice.

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Davistown

after Bill Manhire My turn with the binoculars. The Honeyeater flies straight into the sliding-glass-door. My brother. My yellow t-shirt. His. My sister’s curly red hair, same as mine. My somersault into the nasturtiums. My best friend. Wendy. My hands …

Posted in 44.0: GONDWANALAND | Tagged

Mogul

How long since he’d sliced and salted a tomato? There was almost nothing he touched: silverware and bed covers, expensive notebooks sometimes the floury crust of a gourmet burger the younger skin of a grandchild or subordinate. Somewhere, another old …

Posted in 37.0: NO THEME! | Tagged

Bankstown

It's the Saturday morning fruit and vegetable market in Berkeley, California. There are trestle tables with artichokes, bok choy, carrots, sugar cane, strawberries, looking as though they would taste sweet, and a stall selling organic sauerkraut. It's not a big …

Posted in 11: COPYLEFT | Tagged

SuperX

At the SuperX there are pro riders in the demonstration events and local kids riding in the races. When we first arrive there are bobcats all over the place, they're still building the track. It's exciting just watching the bobcats …

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