brett dionysius



David Dick Reviews Ken Bolton and B. R. Dionysius

ThreeferKen Bolton and B.R. Dionysius emerge from different traditions, respectively: a New York School sense of everyday occasion punctuated by the presence and shaping forces of contemporary art (Frank O’Hara and James Schuyler are clearly present in Bolton’s diction); and a modernised kind of Romantic pastoral, littered with juxtaposed objects of the natural and contemporary world. Yet, at admitted risk of over-generalising, both of their recent books can be seen to be dealing with notions of how to write memory in poetry: how to write a poem to be honest to the process, even the implication itself, of remembering. How can language be used in the service of this retrospective vision, they ask; how does language, shaped by differing poetic forms, illuminate, distort or neutralise it?

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Six Shifts at the VISY Recycling Plant, Heidelberg

(i) Let me introduce you to Chute. Chute is problematic, has four or five personas a first version of Iron Man perhaps but anti-hero, more Alex from A Clockwork Orange than Gough Whitlam; the easy political duality of the seventies …

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Protein Gradients

Dire Wolf (10,000 BC) Canis dirus We were going along okay when you upped & changed the status quo. Our Super-sized Menu died off through your public meddling. Your nutritional requirements affected us direly, Our epoch had evolved the first …

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Review Short: B.R. Dionysius’ Bowra

BowraB.R Dionysius’ Bowra is a collection of fifty-two prose sonnets of sustained intensity and engagement with place, from the fringes of southeast Queensland’s urban sprawl, west to Cunnamulla, with excursions to California and Kazakhstan. These poems count the human and environmental cost of various man-made tragedies. The fourteen-line constraint works to unravel an anecdote and/or piece of narrative sequence at once self-contained and part of the larger ambition of the book: to serve as a selective local history. The consistently restive and physical language is as uncompromised, and at times bewildering, as the landscapes and situations it describes.

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Tears in Rain

for Nola Andrews (i) mother watches w-droplets & planet’s blood pressure falls. in sixty thousand years will big Mars glow her memory radiate again? misses meteor shower over brisbane, four children fracture & depart. silver hair; gelatin frost plate -67° …

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On Not Having Encountered Snow, Aged 43

The Siberian whimbrel, all the weight of a human hand Gestures to the artic wind as it rises, never looking back, As if the greater insult is to survive winter’s chokehold. The fingers of its wing feathers adjust reflexively to …

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Margie Malley: Fahrenheit 451

good example of good literature cold – very little human touch her house was the opposite of montag’s, full of life montag: state of confusion sense of saying it hasn’t any lenient feelings sense of speaking that if they programme …

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Weranga

The cattle grid jolted him back; it was where the green Tree snake coiled itself like a stowed garden hose around The railway iron & they refused to cross, the gap of fear Too great. An Apostlebird greeted his return, …

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Tim Wright reviews Luke Beesley and B. R. Dionysius

Lemon Shark by Luke Beesley papertiger media, 2006 Universal Andalusia by B. R. Dionysius papertiger media, 2006 'The shape of sunlight cutting up your arm'. This was the line that first drew me to Luke Beesley's work. Around the same …

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Benito Di Fonzo reviews B. R. Dionysius

Bacchanalia by B. R. Dionysius Interactive Press, 2002 The title poem of Bacchanalia by B. R. Dionysius is a muscular, vivacious and absorbing piece of prose poetry that starts like a fifteen year old's diary entry but morphs darkly into …

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Burmese Black-lipped Bullfrog

If the West were let in, we'd be the Frank ?´N Furters Of the amphibian world — black lipstick clad mouths On the prowl for evolution's democratic buzzword. Amoral, bi-sexual fraternisation between parties only Enhances the underground's reputation for risqué. …

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On Not Having Encountered Snow, Age 35

(i) Snow is distant like death. A blond field of wheat stubble stalk frozen after harvest. Heat in the eye of the Nankeen kestrel that jump jets over paddocks & locks onto mouse holes, thermals raging as Westerlies plug in. …

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