-
- 84: UNPRINTABLEwith J R Carpenter and Benjamin Laird (submit away!) 83: MATHEMATICSwith Fiona Hile (submit away!) 82: LANDwith James Stuart and Jane Gibian(coming soon!) 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
-
Recent Posts
- Tell Me Like You Mean It: New Poems from Young and Emerging Writers
- my mother told this story of the white girl in the library
- My Kitchen Counter Said
- Wangal Morning
- Blue Carbon, Intertidal
- seepage swan lake
- murrispacetime
- Tax Return
- The Feet that Don’t Stop Will Come to Know Shame
- The Spanish Revelation
- ante meridiem
- (untitled)
- I’d Like to Take a Minute of Your Time to Discuss Short Cuts
- taitamāhine
- Workplace Injury Compensation Form
- nine minutes two seconds
- Cut and dried if only.
- fodder
- American forests are moving west and nobody knows why
- New Town
- Sad Witch Psalms
- The Brandis Diaries
- Gabriel García Ochoa Reviews Poems of Mijail Lamas, Mario Bojórques & Alí Calderón
- Review Short: Andrew Sant’s How to Proceed
- Review Short: Tusiata Avia’s The New Adventures of Nafanua, Samoan Goddess of War
- Review Short: Michelle Cahill’s The Herring Lass
- Review Short: Susan Fealy’s Flute of Milk
Jill Jones
The Storm
The storm catches on the door. It’s a good sign, a surge that’s more than breathing, that blows away dirt from reliquaries, and directions from their careful signs. It’s near speech and near trembling, sky bringer fate crowning from its …
Ekphrasis as ‘Event’: Poets Paint Words and the ‘Performance’ of Ekphrasis in Australia
To commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the Newcastle Region Art Gallery (NRAG) in 2007, Lisa Slade and Peter Minter co-curated the exhibition Poets Paint Words. The two curators commissioned some of Australia’s best poets to write poems in response to …
Posted in ESSAYS
Tagged Dominic Symes, Ivy Ireland, Jill Jones, Kate Fagan, Lisa Slade, Martin Harrison, peter minter, Peter Steele, robert adamson
Leave a comment
My Skeptic Tremor
Perhaps I require revolution rather than mending day or need to get back to my ill channels, disinterest, a fetish or two and a more obvious sin than procrastination. Force is never equal, not in my calculations, nor is severance …
Lucy Van Reviews Little Windows 1 with Jill Jones, Andy Jackson, Alison Flett and John Glenday
The full set of LW1 arrives in the post like a present, a gift-wrapped bundle of square, slate-coloured books. It came to me looking so perfect, that a couple of days passed before I had the heart to a prise a chapbook from under the clear binding ribbon. This situation gave shape to a thought about the necessity of obstruction in order for words to seduce. Some form of this theory of desire continued to occur to me as I read the books’ divergent visions.
Posted in BOOK REVIEWS
Tagged Alison Flett, Andy Jackson, Jill Jones, John Glenday, Lucy Van
1 Comment
Seven Formulas of Method
1. Data: Sun on the right hand Sand fun this roght hend Sent an tho rught hind Sin ends thumb raght hond Song in that reght hund 2. Mix: on the right sand / sent behind / thumbs end rage …
Chloe Wilson Reviews Tracy Ryan and Jill Jones
These two slender and handsomely designed volumes of poetry are the result of the closely con-tested 2014 Whitmore Press Manuscript Prize, of which Tracy Ryan and Jill Jones were joint winners.
In Flight Entertainment
‘no more blues’, that’s not a promise there’s no traction or policy in the blues all those bars are too long a cycle to make for twittering views no more plaints or graces no thanks, ‘watch and listen carefully’ enhanced …
Interior Spaces: Reading Landscape through Jill Jones
There is a photograph I have returned to several times. It was taken during the drive from Melbourne to Perth, at the petrol station which marks the town of Nullarbor, while Lucas was filling our tank. In it, a storm front is approaching, the sky a deep violet-blue which emphasises the red scrub of the plain and the bright yellow of a limestone road skirting round behind the buildings and out of sight, blocked by a makeshift white fence and hand-painted red ‘no entry’ sign.
It fascinates me, this image, in the same way the experience of the place did in the moment I took it.
Bearing False Witness
Stories of the heat rise above the boards and the walls bounce them, like lies. Walls are made of stuff that hides from me, those measurements, the mason’s spans. Dust is the choke, and across vision there’s a bar. I …
In My Shifts
I come in with language I come out of. Its weed, its shrill bugs. A harvest, a rot, a dervish. Cooked into night. Swum from beginnings. Patterns at the bottom of a pool. Something that doesn’t fit. That shifts and …
Asks
What’s it like to be refurbished tackled or finger-printed? It’s not something you can ask but I’m asking. What is it like to be watched waited, frisked? Whenever I worry about my suit my transparency, I don’t think of brightness …
‘All truth is crooked, time itself is a circle.’
You’re diagnosed with an incurable illness. You meet someone at a support group. They teach you how to tango. You both undergo a miracle cure. They become a vampire. Your tests come back clear. You delete their photograph. You change …