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Showing posts from December, 2006

Happy New Year (aka the latest sign that speaks for itself)

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Going Down Swinging

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Last Thursday night I MCed at the launch of issue #24 of Going Down Swinging , Australia's coolest literary anthology. This issue has been the first I have been involved in editorially; I've pasted my editorial for the issue below. To order copies or to find out more about submitting to GDS, visit the website . EDITORIAL This is my first issue as co-editor of Going Down Swinging . It's been a wild ride. First, the submissions. I have to admit I was amazed and then slightly frightened by the sheer number (and quality) of submissions we received this year. This just confirms for me how many people are out there writing crazy poems, drawing kooky comics and coming up with surreal and interesting storylines. I hope you'll agree that this 24th issue of Going Down Swinging is as strong, if not stronger than any issue of any magazine that's ever been published. Anywhere. Second, the editorial process. This is the first time I've ever worked closely with a

Day One Rabbit

"Every time a rabbit comes out of its burrow, it is facing Vietnam the whole of its life ..." Allen Carr (R.I.P.) they call me pirate dave just to piss me off i am the vietnam rabbit coming out of a hole out of a burrow blown to bits i am a rabbit coming out of my hole every day for the rest of my life it's vietnam i'm on pirate radio for twenty one days bury me face down so you can all kiss my arse i am a white rabbit on pirate radio this is my story don't call me dave i'm fragging myself i'm fire in a hole i'm a rabbit on fire in a hole it's vietnam on the radio pirates coaxing rabbits out of holes a memory of a bitumen street at home i was just dave no one bothered to check if that was okay by me well fuck you all i am a rabbit you can call me pirate dave i was watching tv when vietnam happened we were eating tv dinners in front of vietnam on a tv my father made himself from a kit it was his birthday when they rolled the dice & he w

Cordite #25 is now online

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Cordite 25 - Generation of Zeroes is now online, featuring new works by a whole bunch of digitally cool poets including Carol Jenkins, Derek Motion, Elena Knox, Jill Jones, Joel Deane, Klare Lanson and more! Our special guest poetry editor and chanteuse extraordinaire alicia sometimes has done a terrific job balancing the ones and the zeroes, with the result that what you get for your eyeballs is an excellent assortment of long, short and plain kooky poems. And it's all free! Continue reading my editorial for the issue here, on the Cordite blog .

Heel Hete

hotter than that princes highway hotter than the towering inferno hotter than hell on christmas day hotter than every cricketer's mo heel heet! by crikey, that's hot heel hete! ouch! don't touch it! heel hete! (i'm talking very hot heel hete! ... ehm ... oh, shit. hotter than any council barbecue hotter than ham & cheese on toast hotter than a festival portaloo hotter than your mum's hot roast heel hete! very hot! take care! heel hete! very hot! aiy, beware!

Bougainvillea

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Rollmop

the dreamy scent of sleep escapes from a glass jar full of rollmops slipping here between day & night the stars fall like drops of (dew eclipses bait the atmosphere with hints of anarchy & FSU (bleachers groan beneath our stellar weights subway snarls make the beast with two attacks tip a jar upside down watch (a sleepy tear dripping out soft cuddly animals in a tableaux meant for myer window dressers or snoring elves who gives a puck if satan's alive or merely (a stiff -

Swing It Low!

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Bijna

I was almost a bee by the time I was born under propylene beams I was two days old by the bee by the bay I was under moon wood that was why I would lie in the grasses at sunset was new & cicadas were still under nights by the light it was listening mountains yodelled their blades sharp as I was travelling backwards was time a part of a star's dim arrival it was there in the way you were walking & it was almost time to go I was sliding down the honey hill the future was a tree we had become a leaf at last at last