- 84: UNPRINTABLEwith J R Carpenter and Benjamin Laird (submit away!) 83: MATHEMATICSwith Fiona Hile (coming soon!) 82: LANDwith James Stuart and Jane Gibian 81: NEW CARIBBEANwith Vladimir Lucien 80: NO THEME VIwith Judith Beveridge 57.1: EKPHRASTICwith C Atherton and P Hetherington 57: CONFESSIONwith Keri Glastonbury 56: EXPLODE with Dan Disney 55.1: DALIT / INDIGENOUSwith M Chakraborty and K MacCarter 55: FUTURE MACHINES with Bella Li 54: NO THEME V with Fiona Wright and Omar Sakr 53.0: THE END with Pam Brown 52.0: TOIL with Carol Jenkins 51.1: UMAMI with Luke Davies and Lifted Brow 51.0: TRANSTASMAN with Bonny Cassidy 50.0: NO THEME IV with John Tranter 49.1: A BRITISH / IRISH with Matthew Hall and Sophie Seita 49.0: OBSOLETE with Tracy Ryan 48.1: CANADA with Kent MacCarter and Shane Rhodes 48.0: CONSTRAINT with Corey Wakeling 47.0: COLLABORATION with Louis Armand and Helen Lambert 46.1: MELBOURNE with Michael Farrell 46.0: NO THEME III with Felicity Plunkett 45.0: SILENCE with Jan Owen 44.0: GONDWANALAND with Derek Motion 43.1: PUMPKIN with Kent MacCarter 43.0: MASQUE with Ann Vickery 42.0: NO THEME II with Gig Ryan 41.1: RATBAGGERY with Duncan Hose 41.0: TRANSPACIFIC with Josephine Rowe and Michael Nardone 40.1: INDONESIA with Kent MacCarter 40.0: INTERLOCUTOR with Libby Hart 39.1: GIBBERBIRD with Sarah Gory 39.0: JACKPOT! with Sam Wagan Watson 38.0: SYDNEY with Astrid Lorange 37.1: NEBRASKA with Sean Whalen 37.0: NO THEME! with Alan Wearne 36.0: ELECTRONICA with Jill Jones
- Review Short: Brian Castro’s Blindness and Rage
- LAND Editorial
- The Land as Breath: Can Poetic Forms Be Metaphors for Landscapes?
- Concrete: A Shikoku Pilgrimage
- World of Feelings: Ghassan Hage, Bruce O’Neill, Magic Steven and the Affective Dimensions of Globalisation
- Un(dis)closed: Reading the Poetry of Emma Lew
- Architecture, Poetry and Impressions of a Bendigo Chinese Doctor, James Lamsey
- Possession, Landscape, the Unheimlich and Lionel Fogarty’s ‘Weather Comes’
- Placeways in the Anthropocene: Phyllis Webb’s Canadian West Coast
- 12 Pigment Prints on Paper by Tony Albert
- ‘a serpentine | Gesture’: The Synthetic Reconstruction of Ashbery’s Poetic Voice
- Vorticist Portraiture in Mina Loy’s Anglo-Mongrels and the Rose
- Petrus Augustus de Génestet’s ‘Peaen to the Netherlands’
- Three Translated Takako Arai Poems
- Three Translated Nguyễn Man Nhiên Poems
- Four Translated Gerhard Fritsch Poems
- Rattling the Forms
- Arraignment Song
- Archiving the Present: Ivy Alvarez Interviews Conchitina Cruz
- ‘The concept of risk is intensely personal’: Jonno Révanche Interviews Hera Lindsay Bird
- signs of impression
- Trompe l’oeil
- Upon a Shot Star
- Final Hours, Sputnik 2
- The Old Fort at Grennan
- Karma Bin
- slippage (un)fixed
Ekphrasis In ancient Greece ekphrasis was understood more broadly than in the contemporary world, indicating a complex genealogy for this term that encompasses so much fine poetry as well as many other forms of writing. For the ancients, the best …
‘The atomic landscape … does not allow me to rest’: Kurihara Sadako and the Hibakusha Poet as Public Intellectual
The 70th anniversary of the atomic bomb being dropped on Hiroshima was marked by a solemn ceremony in the Hiroshima Peace Park on 6 August, 2015. I formed part of the 40,000 strong crowd, pausing at 8.15 am while the peace bell tolled to mark the dawning of the nuclear age. On that day, the anti-nuclear sentiments the anniversary spawned were complicated and compromised by politics.
EXPLODE Editorial: Awfully Passionate Egregious Demagogueries … reflections on absolutes, straying, anguish and bees
If poets are in the business of cultivating ‘voice’ then, logically enough, to which ends? Is there an onus not only to learn how to speak but to also become versed in what to speak of? If 20c. English-language poetry can be characterised at least partly as a constellation of non-dogmatic radicalised tropes making response to authorising discourses of power / knowledge, then which impetus remains (if any) to adopt transgression as a foremost rhetorical mode?
You survive the flooding of the Lower Ninth Ward by taking cover in the bottom quadrant of my heart. Body count zero, I scrawl, to let people know you are safe. I’m your search squad, your protection against natural hazards, …
Poetry for Cordite 56.1: EKPHRASTIC is guest-edited by Paul Hetherington and Cassandra Atherton. NOTE: due to the nature of what we’re seeking, we’re going to be accepting submissions to this special issue for a considerable amount of time; submissions close …
Clive James’s Sentenced to Life is a poetic autopathography outlining his years living with emphysema and leukemia. While illness biographies ‘present information about diagnosis, treatment and outcome trajectories’, more importantly, they ‘share how the illness has affected the sufferer’s wider life course, social network and views of health care institutions.’, as Rachel Hall-Clifford puts it in her Autopathographies: How ‘Sick Lit’ Shapes Knowledge of the Illness Experience. However, James’s poetry is most often centred on his personal discomfort, regrets and ultimately his quest for reassurance that his writing and memory will survive his death.
Being in and of one’s time (in favour of it, in fact) means producing work that is sensitive to the discursive furies of the day – the atmosphere of mutating code that the poet must stick to poems in new and strange forms. All else is nostalgia and denial. No-one knows what it means that Australia’s imperial republic, whose god has finally been revealed as cosmopolitan capitalism, is, in the history of colonies, still in its infancy yet so impressively seems to be approaching an end of days. If you’ve got burnt chaps and a warm six-shooter (cowgirl), these are exciting times.
The kinship Elvey forges between her poems and ecological criticism lends both rigour and reverence to her first full-length collection of poetry. There is a radiant stasis at the core of her poems that encourages the reader to listen to the susurration of multiple, overlapping conversations to which Elvey is contributing.
after ‘Midday’ by So˘ Cho˘ngju. When you leave me, part of your heart will still beat in the empty space between my sheets. When you go, the imprint of your body will throb in the darkness on the mattress next …