In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Toby Fitch reads his poem 'Mauvement' which features in the 2016 New South Wales anthology.

 

Mauvement

Mauvement 2

 Toby Fitch

 'Mauvement' appears in 'States of Poetry - NSW'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Toby Fitch's biography in 'States of Poetry - NSW'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 NSW Podcast | 'Mauvement' by Toby Fitch
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Toby Fitch reads his poem 'Mauvement' which features in the 2016 New South Wales anthology.

In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Toby Fitch reads his poem 'Democrazy' which features in the 2016 New South Wales anthology.

 

Democrazy

u salivate over the lavish merch     & navigate the root
     the riot marches down     pour lemonade into yr filters
           watch it     fizz w/ the aura of philosophy  
     confit the poor     toys & velour     lining yr demon crèche
where right wings cook     the science left   wings wilt
     where the schism u imp about     cycles     & the ex u con
           script says au revoir!   it’s get on or get off if u
     serf on ice / sir vice the military     exploit the monstro     
city in yr self     & yr peak industry body perks   apply!                 
     it pays to be Trumped up     logorrhoeathmic     crazed   ex          
           ponent of that power to witch   re volting masses stick
    aux! centre yr cynic     for some scenic prostitution
pawn off yr core   values & move     evr forward     evn
     the fixed come unfixed       as iphones on the blink   keep        
         snuffling the paywalls’     patois       paths so logical  
     it’s tough   love      u illuminate       swipe right 
eat the drapes     eat everything night drips w/

 Toby Fitch

 'Democrazy' appears in 'States of Poetry - NSW'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Toby Fitch's biography in 'States of Poetry - NSW'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 NSW Podcast | 'Democrazy' by Toby Fitch
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Toby Fitch reads his poem 'Democrazy' which features in the 2016 New South Wales anthology.

In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Toby Fitch reads his poem 'Gen Y' which features in the 2016 New South Wales anthology.

 

Gen Y

daze of body & soul come to a / won’t come to an
       end on this / the last night of dearth  
            
browsing eBay & Etsy / the Cloud i erode
       drops in & butts out like a tide
u appear in my inboxed head eating snow
       eggs & de
pression for dessert as if
             Bondi
Beach were fatigued of its breathing
       unsound government ships the crowds
back off into knots i glance at
       the sea / poles flip & newspolls murk / spill
             over
/ as vague as a wave it is
       career weather for doze who believe He loves us
all in the choked capital of wherever    
             i / u / our brain
didnt go

looking for grief after noon / it found us
       in the form of an algorithm that could remember
             & dismember our feeds / our new dream
       scrolls
in reverse that echo
(according to music vids & some fat
       graphic lips in a txt)
             the future consumption of everything before it’s even
       been munched thru
like ancient gums
suffering Hillsong
yr funding’s been
       approved by the Ministry for Excellence /
             Spirit / __________ but mate
       it cannot be redeemed for bodily release
in the Cross shutdown by new police power & assumption that
             our impact on the environment won’t be felt

out there in the multiverse
       apparitions behove themselves as certain
             heads of state racing long into action deferred
       mouthing out confected norms as swift & whimsical as
horses for courses men continue to fall from
       the sky caused Obama anger / joy /
             guilt told a story factoidally
       something about the seven plots of our Hadron Collider
existence looping round like hope /
       happiness / liberty / __________
             but the feelings downloaded got stuck in
       a sinkhole / promises resounded
& the earthworms began to travel
w/ tradition again / asking
             do u remember yr body or bodies

curled up together / wanting to buy for a long time
       machine that can fatalise any experience there is/was no terror
             that couldn’t be franchised out
for all the purple
       warming into peepholes online
the storm-rented sky/sea became stationary
       another perfect accident for sadness journos to parse out over
             the future’s raging culture wars that u & i trouble
       for a fleeting exit strategy to the current
maze we fund ourselves in
       & numb to the looming crash of
             summer / winter air
       delicate
explosions that fall foam & home
in on the present w/ a superinhuman
             affection / pure surface

 

 Toby Fitch

 'Gen Y' appears in 'States of Poetry - NSW'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Toby Fitch's biography in 'States of Poetry - NSW'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 NSW Podcast | 'Gen Y' by Toby Fitch
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Toby Fitch reads his poem 'Gen Y' which features in the 2016 New South Wales anthology.

In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Jelena Dinic reads her poem 'Alterations to the little black dress' which features in the 2016 South Australian anthology.

 

Alterations to the little black dress

A little pin-up
three fingers
above the knees.

Behind the curtain
a dress-up game –
pretty things come undone.

He chalks lines
on raw stitches.
I catwalk.

My body fits the timeless black.
'You can live in it, or die'
smile the lips full of needles.

Do I look a little dead
with black fabric
on bone-pale flesh?

Suddenly in the mirror
I see the last party.
This dress is me.

In the front row
button-eyes watch
a grand entrance into the hand-made hole.

Around a little black dress
the roots of the earth
grow matching belts.

 

Jelena Dinic


'Alterations to the little black dress' appears in 'States of Poetry - SA'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Jelena Dinic's biography in 'States of Poetry - SA'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 SA Podcast | 'Alterations to the little black dress' by Jelena Dinic
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Jelena Dinic reads her poem 'Alterations to the little black dress' which features in the 2016 South Australian anthology.

In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Jelena Dinic reads her poem 'Handbag' which features in the 2016 South Australian anthology.

 

Handbag

after Vasko Popa

Always ready to leave
leaving
each time further
from the whispers
of the grass.

She has forgotten
her death,
the calf she once was.

Curled around an arm
a new name sewn
into her mouth
she's been there, done that.

A tramp, living beyond
the stitches of life.

 Jelena Dinic


'Handbag' appears in 'States of Poetry - SA'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Jelena Dinic's biography in 'States of Poetry - SA'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 SA Podcast | 'Handbag' by Jelena Dinic
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Jelena Dinic reads her poem 'Handbag' which features in the 2016 South Australian anthology.

In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Jelena Dinic reads her poem 'Babysitting' which features in the 2016 South Australian anthology.

 

Babysitting

for Mia

I wore my grandmother's clothes
and sat on her doorstep.
Monday to Friday.
She talked.
I lied.

'I'll teach you how to write,' I said
pretending I could
hold a pen.
'Mouse will eat your ears,' she smiled.

At night we leaned on pillows
watched TV with subtitles.
I made up foreign words.
I told her it was mostly German.

'Tell me more', she said.
'Tomorrow,' I said.
'Tomorrow is Saturday,' she replied.

Jelena Dinic


'Babysitting' appears in 'States of Poetry - SA'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Jelena Dinic's biography in 'States of Poetry - SA'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 SA Podcast | 'Babysitting' by Jelena Dinic
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Jelena Dinic reads her poem 'Babysitting' which features in the 2016 South Australian anthology.

In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Jelena Dinic reads her poem 'The Silence of Siskins' which features in the 2016 South Australian anthology.

 

The Silence of Siskins

for my grandfather

He circles my arrival
on the calendar.

It is late November
and it doesn't snow.

A wooden pallet
hardens his bed.

He dreams of grandmother.
He doesn't want new dreams.

Two siskins in cages –
their song frozen like the air

that other November
when she lost her heart

cleaning and baking
for those who might arrive.

Above the fireplace a few flies
are nervous company.

'Not easy on earth,' he says,
'not easy below.'

Jelena Dinic


'The Silence of Siskins' appears in 'States of Poetry - SA'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Jelena Dinic's biography in 'States of Poetry - SA'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 SA Podcast | 'The Silence of Siskins' by Jelena Dinic
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Jelena Dinic reads her poem 'The Silence of Siskins' which features in the 2016 South Australian anthology.

In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Nathan Shepherdson reads his poem 'the black hand of Badia Elmi' which features in the 2016 Queensland anthology.

 

the black hand of Badia Elmi

 the black hand of Badia Elmi corrected and cropped

 

Nathan Shepherdson


'the black hand of Badia Elmi' appears in 'States of Poetry - QLD'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Nathan Shepherdson's biography in 'States of Poetry - QLD'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 QLD Podcast | 'the black hand of Badia Elmi' by Nathan Shepherdson
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Nathan Shepherdson reads his poem 'the black hand of Badia Elmi' which features in the 2016 Queensland anthology.

In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Carolyn Abbs reads her poems 'At the house where my father was born' and 'Triple Mirrors' which feature in the 2016 Western Australian anthology.

 

At the house where my father was born

'It hurts to go through walls, it makes you sick,
but it's necessary.' − Tomas Tranströmer

I'd expected a labyrinth of small dark rooms, yet
the house was lit marigold        scooped out like a pumpkin for Halloween
Flames flickered and spat in a wide fireplace
       a seaweedy stench had swept in       brushed walls with sea mist
Oak beams as broad as shoulders     seemed safe
                      the floor dipped like a ship

There was a tavern of voices outside
            laughter      bickering     sniggering
gossip in the street       lingering Victorian morals
                     Crash of sea over rocks din of death bells
                                                                       It was 1917

I was through that door    that painting     that wall to god knows where

A Woman in Blue Reading a Letter
                        a crinkly unfolding of paper sound
a letter that never came             after the Somme

Her sigh      swish of skirt
          I turned       she passed the mirror      a silvery blur
                     a light crunch of shoe on wooden board
          I saw the horror of her unwed shame in my own face
                     the same mirror that once held her

O to curl into the stillness of that blue velvet chair
                      its painterly stopping of time
Walls giddied me        terrified me       the emptiness of that room
          She was banished
                      He grew as his grandma's thirteenth child

                               * * *

I went through silence        a room bathed with pale sunlight
         It was late afternoon in winter
From a window        across a meadow towards the sea
I saw him walking away
He carried the burden of those walls
on his dark days         dark, dark, days
         Shoulders hunched
         he went towards the sea
                               the openness of the sea
                                                                   the sea...

 

Carolyn Abbs

Triple Mirrors

 After you died, Nana, I went to your room,
it was dark like that place beneath the breakwater
where barnacles cling and children never dare hide

I opened a blind, a stuck window, breeze fanned
and fanned the room, light across your dressing-
table, triple mirrors. Amidst perfume bottles,

hairbrush, amber beads, your art deco box,
walnut with inlaid mother-of-pearl; guiltily
as if invading privacy, I lifted the lid,

postcards of seaside scenes, turquoise Quink,
stamps, shells, keys, coins, and with sand-like
grit beneath my nails, I heard an echo of the tide
a slow swish, swish...

I tried a jet-diamante comb in my hair, the mirrors
shimmered silver; as if through mist, your blue-
grey eyes came back, three times, to look at me,
waves swept and swept the shore...

the room so empty without you

 

Carolyn Abbs


'At the house where my father was born' and 'Triple Mirrors' appear in 'States of Poetry - WA'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Carolyn Abbs's biography in 'States of Poetry - WA'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 WA Podcast | 'At the house where my father was born' and 'Triple Mirrors' by Carolyn Abbs
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Carolyn Abbs reads her poems 'At the house where my father was born' and 'Triple Mirrors' which feature in the 2016 Western Australian anthology.

In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Sarah Rice reads her poems 'The Saying and The Said' and 'Dad' which feature in the 2016 ACT anthology.

 

The Saying and the Said

Timing and manner my mum would always say
and it's true, the how and when override the what
of what's said, and the same is true of poetry.

I don't think people remember their tone when speaking –
other people's yes, but not their own. Tone, like texture, is crucial
for the feel of things – is it honey or cactus, metal or water?

And if the words float toward you like ducks on a pond
looking for crumbs, or if they are the hard grit
embedded in a harsh wind as it lashes your face,

the words themselves matter less than the manner of their coming –
words that slip in to visit you in their night gown, or words that slip
their owner's leash and attack in packs and will not be called back.

Some words have tiny green tendrils that climb like pea shoots,
while others bite their nails and yours. It is a shame we cannot feel
the weight and warmth or will of saying, instead of what's said.

 Sarah Rice

Dad

We would sit on the wings of his knees
and see-saw our way through stories
              magical suitcases
                           Romanian folktales
              golden apples
                           and sea voyages
Sister                                                     and I
                           bookended
              holding each square corner
              and turning the pages

Sometimes it was pontoon
betting with matchsticks and forgetting
to hold the plastic cards out of sight
in our keen bending over the game

The tooth-cleaning song
upstairs and downstairs
and always ending with pie

Gathering leaves into high dry piles
               with crinkly edges
                in a navy roller-neck
Planting out and potting up
with rubber knee pads over the jeans
engaged in a small prayer service
to the row of terracotta pots laid out on the grass
and after offering fistfuls of potting mix to each
his large palms open on his knees
showed the black grains clinging along the creases

Unwrapping fish and chips from layers of grey grease paper
                         that the oil had already worked through
Singing Irish shanties
                         Scottish ditties
                                      gold rush songs in the car
and walking hand-in-hand across the car-park
               Playing squash together
the two of us in that odd white square
with old wooden rackets and older dunlops
the long reach of his hand letting him sit pretty in the centre
while I wove crazily about him in a mad maypole dance
                of sweat and the rubber slap of shoe-soles
with the tiny ball greying but warming over time
til it was a hot coal burning in the palm each time it was retrieved

Still the love of paprika and garam masala
                dukkah and kimchi
                             fennel seed
                curry powder
                             turmeric
biting on the bitter seeds and smiling
palmfuls flung into the pan with abandon
and the remaining powder clapped away in proud applause

And a very cold night in a tent to see Halley's comet
                       which I never saw
but swore I did with nods and ahs
when he pointed and held the binoculars for me
              despite the fog-smudged sky
and over-night involved a mid-sleep trip
to the concrete toilet-block together in the blackness
and an impromptu run around the cold field
to warm ourselves in the strange emptiness

                         And parties where
                                                 after egg and spoon
the orange wheelbarrow was filled with more than sister and me
           more even than all our small friends put together
                                      We would clasp the plastic rim
and it would buckle and tilt on a crazy angle
but he always got the big wheel turning
                            could always lift us
push us round the garden
no matter how many
how heavy.

Sarah Rice


'The Saying and The Said' and 'Dad' appear in 'States of Poetry - ACT'. You can learn more about States of Poetry and read the full anthologies here

Read Sarah Rice's biography in 'States of Poetry - ACT'

Additional Info

  • Free Article Yes
  • Custom Article Title States of Poetry 2016 ACT Podcast | 'The Saying and The Said' and 'Dad' by Sarah Rice
  • Contents Category States of Poetry - Poems
  • Custom Highlight Text

    In this episode of Australian Book Review's States of Poetry podcast, Sarah Rice reads her poems 'The Saying and The Said' and 'Dad' which feature in the 2016 ACT anthology.