Pam Brown


in two hundred and fifty thousand years my sludge of waste might lose its poison but nothing’s set in stone except the joy and anguish of being here with one week to practice what we believe but can we sleep …

Posted in UNIVERSAL ARCHIVE | Tagged ,

The Lee Marvin Readings: An Evening with Edmund Gwenn

The Lee Marvin Readings has run, off and on, since the 1990s. Its venue has changed a number of times – from Adelaide nightclubs like Supermild, to the Iris Cinema, to the charmingly Zurich-1917, bo-ho De La Catessan and the more robustly hard-drinking and confrontational Dark Horsey bookshop at the Australian Experimental Art Foundation, where it now takes place. The sessions have been organised, run, staffed and emceed by poet and art critic Ken Bolton.

Posted in CHAPBOOKS | Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

What’s the frequency, Kenneth?

a revhead full of vodka slushies, fading bling, the schlock of the old. just don’t hand over the car keys. sampling a fizz of schweppervescence I think of us, you and me, our lifetime lack of fancy salaries. on a …

Posted in LEE MARVIN | Tagged ,

More than a feuilleton

the experienced world hasn’t been the world itself for a long time now & now we want to see the world as we want it to be * who’s speaking, saying this about the ‘world’? what ‘world’? * a cute …

Posted in LEE MARVIN | Tagged ,

Pam Brown’s Sydney Poetry in the 70s: In Conversation with Corey Wakeling

Pam Brown is not only one of Australia’s most prolific and important poets writing today, but also one of our richest archives on the history of late twentieth century Australian poetry. Since this is Cordite’s Sydney issue, I thought an interview with her might evince a valuably multifarious image of, perhaps, Australia’s most speedily shifting poetic landscape.”

Posted in INTERVIEWS | Tagged , ,


where’s my donkey : thursday evening catch the train, seagulls circling Central Station catch a bus pick up a paint chart, at the gallery – Korea and Kinglake photography exhibitions (different) a very thin man in Oxford Street in red …

Posted in 49: SYDNEY | Tagged

Liam Ferney Reviews Pam Brown and Adam Aitken

Poetry doesn't pay the bills but it does have benefits; claiming your internet and a trip to Melbourne back on tax, for instance. Or the overseas fellowships distributing poets across the globe like water from a sprinkler, as is the case with the authors of the titles under review.

Posted in BOOK REVIEWS | Tagged , ,

Pam Brown Live at the Globe

[audio:] Pam Brown live at The Globe bookstore (11:24) Prague, 15 April 2009.

Posted in GUNCOTTON | Tagged

Stephan Delbos: The Prague Micro Festival Poetry Series

prague_festival_poster1In our latest feature, Stephan Delbos recalls some highlights from the inaugural Prague Micro Festival Poetry Series, held in Prague and Brno between 14-18 April 2009. To accompany the words and images, Cordite presents five live recordings of readings by Australian poets Jill Jones, Philip Hammial, Michael Farrell, Pam Brown and Louis Armand at the Globe Bookstore on 15 April 2009.

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

Pam Brown Reviews Miriel Lenore

In response to the effects of global climate change, and probably informed by earlier exponents like natural historian Henry David Thoreau, Rachel Carson, Aldo Leopold, Eric Rolls and so on, the literary genre 'nature writing' has been re-invigorated and a new genre, 'ecopoetry', has emerged in the first decade of the twenty-first century.

Posted in BOOK REVIEWS | Tagged ,

Eve N. Malley: Tossed grubs

EVE N. MALLEY is a prominent Melbourne-born bon vivant and poet who once earned her living as John and Sunday Weed's kitchen hand. She has published monographs on cooking, sex, gardening, comic books and art. She is currently writing a study of love poetry of the 1950s. Eve N. Malley lives, these days, in the Cotswolds.

Posted in 24: CHILDREN OF MALLEY | Tagged

Where Am I?

a sheet of pills slips from the drawer to the floor not near a radio can't operate the dvd player, don't understand the digital box, (do I care ?) air, breeze and leaf (someone else's window) tinge the time (someone …


Café Filmo

the Italians go to Starbucks – beam me up biscotti. Pasolini, the charmer, orders decaf. last century Federico Fellini made films as if everyone loved films that was the gift, the key. Pier Paolo filmed like someone who'd never been …



that's nature for you — worried by a whip-bird, bitten and blotched by all the different bugs and nanobac that we find inside the hut, the weekender, the cabin in the haven. the shady scenic-route lookout marks the place that …



Pam Brown's text thing was reviewed here by Bev Braune.

Posted in 20: SUBMERGED | Tagged

Bev Braune Reviews Pam Brown

My topic is local. The poems rarely leave whatever street I'm on. They are as mobile and as mutable as my daily life. (from Pam Brown's Statements on poetics) [1] The art of looking for the text, the thing it's in and re-thinking it, is Pam Brown's forte. In reading this collection, I find myself thinking of Brown's development. She is a poet who reads, travels, observes and re-thinks her own backyard.

Posted in BOOK REVIEWS | Tagged ,

Patti Smith Was Right

these cold, known objects are not very likeable – aluminium frames & curved glass with optical tricks – but I am 'at ease' at this show, there are some nice little-grin ideas – like television screening outside on the suburban …

Posted in 09: MUSIC | Tagged

At the Ian Burn Show

MCA 1997 at the Ian Burn show there’s a badly recorded b&w video of Ian Burn & colleagues performing anti-authoritarian art spiels— drumkit, keyboards, guitar, voice— it’s the ‘Art & Language’ days, the mid-seventies—recorded most likely, on a Sony portapak …

Posted in 05: UNTHEMED | Tagged

In Ultimo in ‘98

I maximise my traipsing round the district— at the end of Bay Street Bert Flugelman’s silver shish-kebab lies abandoned in the Sydney City Council yard behind the garbage trucks garage (“Living City” say the t-shirts)

Posted in 05: UNTHEMED | Tagged

In Surry Hills

faintly scribbled in sky-blue pencil on the front wall of my house in Surry Hills in 1971— “is this the hostel where the lazy & fun-loving start up the mountain” I don’t think anyone entering the house had hear of …

Posted in 05: UNTHEMED | Tagged

A howling in favour of failures …

It’s time to lay my zip-drive on the table – here is where we all washed up – the caffeine failed, the water pipes hammering, pink batts making it difficult to eavesdrop, April Fool’s Day on its way, all the …

Posted in 03: NEXT WAVE | Tagged