Joel Scott

‘Revolt and remembrance’: Joel Scott in conversation with Don Mee Choi

I’ve known Don Mee Choi now for more than 10 years. I got to know her work as a poet and a translator simultaneously, through her first book of poems, The Morning News is Exciting, and her first book-length translation of the work of Kim Hyesoon, Mommy Must Be a Fountain of Feathers.

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A Discussion on Verity Spott with 6 Poems

I suppose what we’ve been trying to do so far is establish a language space that deliberately alienates anyone and anything that enforces the gender binary. Pretty simple.

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Joel Scott Reviews Poetry of the Earth: Mapuche Trilingual Anthology

Book reviews tend to operate according to some kind of comparative drive: which are the writers whose work this resembles; is this work better or worse than those? Where can it be located in a historical system of literary relationships? Leaning on Harold Bloom’s theories of critical paternity testing and an inverted form of child support, this mode of review is supposed to gives us an idea of what the book might be like, whether we should bother reading it, perhaps even whether it should have been published in the first place.

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6 Poems from Juan Diego Otero’s Los Tiempos del Ruido

It’s not easy to relate the tumult and commotion of that night; only that prosopopoeia, with which the preachers represent to us the day of judgement, can present us with some explanation of what physically occurred on the night of the terror: all of the people out of their houses, out of fear they would collapse.

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i plunged my fist into your chest and discovered the heart i licked my discovery my knowledge in the cell, in the nighttime, as the moon covers its eye with the shadow, i discover the will in the cell which …

Posted in 68: NO THEME IV | Tagged


A surplus of appendages. A register of distorted perceptions. Shoved into the circular opening of the device, waves of magnetic composition flutter the flesh. You use your personality to get the honey out. Metals in the blood reconsider their assumed …

Posted in 66: OBSOLETE | Tagged

NOUVELLE VAGUE (put a string on it)

hanging my happiness on a boiled egg, i stretch my trunk skyward, and ask you the difference between a glass ceiling and a skylight. from here, i can see all of the foodstuffs raining, the king prawns, all the regalia, …

Posted in 56: NO THEME II | Tagged


Ability is not the end cause and justly– not even the original thing can foreclose the horselock I don’t want to tell you I want to say you come here to the main city where all the intense emotions sleeping …

Posted in 49: SYDNEY | Tagged