Sue Stanford



Translation Studies

beyond the reader’s window frame the sky’s taut tent pulls from pale nylon to the heavy canvas of a violently blue Australian mid-summer noon far up the lost transition the blackness of outer space her cheek turns against an indigo …

Posted in 35.0: OZ-KO (ENVOY) | Tagged

where does she stop

where does she stop greenland? Or winter at Reykjahlið? I know an African who fell in love with Greenland it was a sort of interim love … my head pressed beneath her locker room door Travelling long-distance. For a season, …

Posted in 31.1: POST-EPIC | Tagged

Passage Through a Daemon

where does she stop

Posted in 31.0: EPIC | Tagged

ready or not

I can't write, the story without hands   applauding Derrida's graffiti   she will take the pen off him   To fill up   the red plastic devil eyes   and tell us where we are   Only yesterday filled …

Posted in 30.1: MADE | Tagged

On Reading Mr Wittgenstein’s Lion

Every landscape painting is a left eye's worth of a stereoscopic image. There's no comparison. Sight has its own methodology. Hearing too. If a picture could talk we could not understand it. This, though black & white TV returned me …

Posted in 30.0: CUSTOM | Tagged

On Reading ‘Learning Human’

This blunt nosed wombat, greedy mega-faun, transforms obstacles to sustenance, chews his way through your front door, your doormat on his back. Rudely, he celebrates daggy mud gloves, or parades in pleated rain, a stray feather stuck to one ear. …

Posted in 29.0: PASTORAL | Tagged