It’s by link to Tim Jones’s site, where he posts a poem from my new chapbook Quick Bright Things: Poems of Fantasy and Myth.  He also gives some commentary on the poem and the book, which is cool as a sea cucumber.  (The poem is about a sunken city, hence the sea imagery creeping in there.  Or sliding, or however sea cukes move.)

I was thinking of posting an appropriate Atlantis type image, but here instead is the cover of the book once again, with the cricketing fairy drawn by Paul Summerfield.  You can buy a copy here.

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No poem as such today. I am going down to Melbourne soon for the launch of The Stars Like Sand and am finding it hard to write at the mo.

However I recently had a hat trick of poems up at Eureka Street.

And, to continue the sporting metaphors, I scored a goal with a poem being included in the special World Cup edition of the New Zealand publication broadsheet. The poem, ‘Passing beauty’ was originally published at Eureka Street, and then in my second-prize-winning book The Cancellation of Clouds, which can be purchased from Ginninderra Press. Australia’s draw in the World Cup is (cough) perhaps (cough) somewhat difficult (hysterical laughter). We face Spain, The Netherlands and Chile. (Giggle.)

And, having linked more times than a golfer, she puts away clubs, balls big and balls small, and retires to the gym for a bit of metal.
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Here are the launch posters, for the last time.
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Now, some Tuesday poets will have original poems, and some will have old ones. Check them out. Put down those barbells, meat-head, and click this feather:

Tuesday Poem

The poet addresses her first book

Oh my little treasure, with your spine just like a real spine
and your two short footnotes; smooth, appropriate and small.
I would swaddle you in gossamer, rock you in a golden crib.
All too soon you’ll be waddling out amongst dangerous critics
(if one so angelic and slim could ever so perambulate.)
Strange readers may not see your brilliance, and overlook you
for the thicker, slicker, tarmac roads of easy fattening prose.
Those lard-backs, perched like obese babushka dolls
above the Muse’s cuter, lighter, cuddle-worthy spawn.

Hush, dear bookie. Drink deep.
No-one will ever love you as I do.

P.S. Cottier
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This little occasional poem was written for the launch of my first book, way back in 2008. I have been thinking about that as we head towards the launches of The Stars Like Sand, jointly edited by Tim Jones and myself.

It’s always a strange experience to hold something that was previously only an idea, or a manuscript. A manuscript is a bit like an ultrasound of a baby, showing a rough outline, but not the detail. The pregnancy, in the case of the latest volume, lasted about 18 months, which is positively elephantine.

Can’t wait to get back to concentrating entirely on my own poetry. I almost have another manuscript prepared. And I have an inkling for something else, too.

Launches intervene, though!

These have been unusually feminine metaphors for me. Or perhaps female would be a more accurate word. Next time I promise to return to football or cricket imagery.

Owzat?

Click this feather for further poetic goodness, with no added artificial ingredients:
Tuesday Poem

It’s a thing now!

May 16, 2014

a thing

I spotted this handsome thing having a glass of good Australian sparkling wine at Tilley’s.

This thing will be launched in Melbourne and Canberra soon, and then be sent out to all the contributors whose DNA formed the thing.

But on a lovely sunny Autumn afternoon in Canberra, this blogger will join Thing in having a drink or eight.

My fingers are feeling shky…vant spell,,or punktewat…

If you are reading this and live in the cities of Melbourne or Canberra, and don’t come to one of these launches, my drone will find you. It sprays honey and drops hungry wasps.

Just saying…

Click on the relevant poster to enlarge. Clever people manage to enlarge things before posting, but I am not at all geekish.

I have yet to receive any books, but I am sure that will happen soon.

I have my longest poem ever up at Verity La.
It is a list poem called ‘100 holes in my bucket’. Enjoy! I like this one quite a lot.
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