PS Cottier

Rapunzel’s lesson

And after they have stopped swarming up
massing like armoured lice, itching, pulling…
What then?

Nothing in this world in free, she said, dear
mother, before she died, like all mothers
in this castellated world.

And she was right. After the long climb
they ask for my hand. Hair, rope-pulled,
then hand, for life.

I’ve learnt. I flick my golden ladder
and watch them free-fall, moat-wards,
screaming, motes of shiny dandruff.

And then I comb my hair.

P.S. Cottier

‘Rapunzel’s lesson’ was highly commended in The Bridge Foundation poetry competition, October 2009.

In an exciting development (well exciting for me, anyway) Tim Jones and I will soon begin editing a book of Australian speculative poetry. As you all know, that’s science fiction, fantasy, horror and magic realism. It will be published by Interactive Publications of Queensland. The book will contain new poems as well as previously published works, so watch out for the call for submissions and further details, dear fellow Australians of a poetic bent.

I am looking forward to working with Tim, who I have only met electronically. Amazing what a little Tuesday Poem can bring about. As he has previously edited Voyagers with Mark Pirie, he has the runs on the board, speculatively speaking.

So the little fantasy poem above is a tribute to Books Yet to Come.

Tim Jones

I spent most of the weekend at the Conflux science fiction convention in Canberra, where I met some poets who I will spank with Rapunzel’s hairbrush if they do not submit to the anthology.

They have been warned…

For further poetry, press this raven’s feather. Never say nevermore, chickies.