'Jim Carroll’s Ass', a new poem by Alice Notley

Alice Notley
Thursday, 20 December 2018

Nothing seems real     yet I’m willing
to play ‘the real’ game for ones I love
and when I’m sick I go get pills
but more and more hovering above it I’m

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'Cyndi Lauper', a new poem by Michael Hofmann

Michael Hofmann
Tuesday, 27 November 2018

June 22

And many happy returns of the day to Cyndi Lauper, 65,
once said to ‘dress funny’ and her voice likened to ‘rat’ (or ‘rat’s’),

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'The Measurement Institute' a new poem by Anthony Lawrence

Anthony Lawrence
Monday, 26 November 2018

You wouldn’t think to look twice: no high fence
crowned with broken glass, no security guard
heavy with boredom and a lanyard of keys.

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'Recital', a new poem by Judith Bishop

Judith Bishop
Friday, 26 October 2018

Watching others love
        is something
many do, I guess –
not so much a pastime
        as a mode

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He seldom spoke, even when well, and when he did it was misterioso, brief,
a gnomic shorthand, often only a grunt,
but his musicians got it, Nellie, Boo-Boo, and Sphere III too.
Nowadays next to nothing comes out his mouth, nothing at all.

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'Landscape with Magic Lantern Slides' by Lisa Gorton

Lisa Gorton
Tuesday, 25 September 2018

‘You’ve seen the hands of statues that men have set by gateways.’


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'Wittgenstein, 1951, Peppered Moth' by Davina Alison

Davina Allison
Monday, 24 September 2018

Tell me how they move
for the light and I will gather wild orchids
for you and five species
of cockle shells
and leave them by your window ...

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'The Cave of Bliss' by Ali Cobby Eckermann

Ali Cobby Eckermann
Thursday, 23 August 2018

I want to climb back
into the cave of bliss
to be with you
the way you make me feel
strong arms to hold
wise words to listen ...

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'break' by Jordie Albiston

Jordie Albiston
Thursday, 26 July 2018

a spirit into splinters    or a night
into day    the quavers levitating
just the same    see a kind of orangeness
tinge the wrenched event    & head falls & sun
caws & moon forgets her name    a muteness ...

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'Syllabic Patterning' by Michael Farrell

Michael Farrell
Thursday, 26 July 2018

He went down to the shed to look for a chook
a particular one he’d seen earlier that morning
one he realised he’d never seen before, and
that seemed to have disappeared. It was brown
with white markings, distinctive, like wallpaper ...

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