Elizabeth Morton



What Blooms Beneath a Blood-Red Sky: A Year in Aotearoa Poetry

Poetry is booming in Aotearoa, and nobody can quite say why. What’s stirring our blood in the plague years / this sixth mass extinction / our deteriorating climate of political and literal atmospheres?

Posted in ESSAYS | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Wasted

the toppled woods were beautiful – palm needles, car tires, bark and heat. ash-plumes tickling the armpit of sky, cloud ribboned like cassette tape. we found Ozymandias submerged in a century of polymers, the gadgetry of bored children – playstations, …

Posted in 72: THE END | Tagged