They say
July 2, 2021
that riding a unicorn is not unlike herding clouds that garden gnomes wake each night and eat snails that pistachio! is said by elves to each other after they sneeze that Pinocchio actually liked being a puppet more than a real boy that mirrors store each image and watch a kaleidoscope each night that marshmallow tastes exactly like drowning in freshly laid snow that the stomach inside the earth is always churning and burping that empty wine bottles stored in cellars refill every twelve years that walls are built by the fearfully dull [both giants and States] that mushrooms glow green when the moon goes superpink that hearsay could equally be called listentalk PS Cottier
Sometimes it’s good to write something just for fun. I think I’d like to meet the ‘they’ who say the things in this poem. The illustration is by Hugh Thomson, via the ever wonderful Old Book Illustrations.
Tuesday poem: (Tiny quick lassos)
April 20, 2020
Tiny quick lassos
flung out by coronaboys —
all virus wrangled
PS Cottier
What is the appropriate attitude to this virus? Although it is obviously serious, humour is sometimes necessary as a survival mechanism, particularly as we’re not able to go out so much.
I had a dream about nanobots, and turned that into coronaboys. Like cowboys, but fully wee.
Tuesday weirdness: “Hunt”
April 19, 2017
Hunt
She stalks them, device in hand, in a modern bloodless hunt. They hide near buildings, the cute light beings, and she captures them with her e-net. The one she desired most appeared; half hedgehog and half platypus.
‘Great!’ she said. She had been searching just for him. He was king of all the cute light creatures. She lined up the e-net with the furry ball, with his fringe of pink spikes.
The hedgepus pounced, all claws and teeth. He skinned and ate her, with the efficiency that only practice brings. They stalk humans, the light things, and no nets are necessary. Their hunt is not bloodless.
His cuteness returned, with only a few stains on the fur near his mouth. People would assume that he had eaten too many berries. The hedgepus is said to relish the raspberry.
A kidney marked the spot, flung out like confetti.
PS Cottier
This micro story was highly commended in the Microfiction category of the Fellowship of Australian Writers National Awards for 2016, just announced. (I’ve edited it a little since then.) I also won another category, called the ‘How-Tweet-It-Is Poetry Award’. I won’t post that one, though, as I have submitted it for publication Elsewhere. That second award allowed me to try out a poem short enough for Twitter, without joining that foul and parasitic ‘conversation’.
I also enjoy writing the occasional wee story, like the one above, safe from the constraints of character. And often plot… Prose poetry morphs into story quicker than seagulls wolf chips.
Very happy to be highly commended for a tiny horror story, too.
Next week, I promise fewer internal organs, and even a different image.
Tuesday Poem: Two dogs
December 6, 2016
Two dogs
Young dog cups warmth
into her belly —
lots more where that came from
Old dog limps towards the fire
dreams, remembering bones.
We know of the bones to be.
PS Cottier
This poem first appeared at the Project 365 + 1 blog for which I wrote a poem a day in June. And yes, I have an old dog and a very vigorous middle aged dog. People always whinge about how quickly their children grow up, but a fourteen year old dog is not an adolescent!
Now I’m off to attempt to write something, and to paint my nails a vivid sparkly green. Christmas demands it.
Tuesday poem: Outings
November 28, 2016
Outings
Out for review
Out for the count
Out of time
Out for lunch
Out and about
Out for a duck
Out of luck
Out of the closet
Out on the town
Out of the corner of my eye
Out of the box
Out of the mouths of babes
Out of fashion
Out caught behind
Out of it
Out and out
Over and out
PS Cottier
A bit of fun this week; and why not, as we head into glorious summer and Christmas?
I was chuffed (a technical term for a state somewhere between freakily ecstatic and mildly pleased) to hear that I have been shortlisted for the Red Room New Shoots Poetry Prize, in collaboration with the Royal Botanic Gardens Sydney, and Rochford Street Review. You can access the full shortlists here (plural as there was a site specific contest for the Botanic Gardens, too). Lovely to recognise some other people on the list! And to see some names that are totally unfamiliar, as well.
Now I’m off to work on some sunburn.
PS Cottier 