as if a poem were a person, me, i get up in the morning / i buy coffee in a can, and wait / you have to keep calm, “don't get upset” / or it fucks everything up. the bosses who tell me this / are wise but stupid troopers. this is a political poem

call in sick, 6:06 ... a long cold walk in the dark body tense like the animal spirits the hand’s invisible twerk wrenching at all of it power lines and lit-up cranes liven the dock i feel old as filth.

I have watched the 1OUTS rap battle video 2SHAE VS SNIPES, so many times. I’ve watched and re-watched it with old friends. I’ve shown it to new friends from different parts of Australia and the world. A friend from Brisbane recently noted that every time my group of friends from Melbourne hang out, the Snipes video […]

ok, let’s get rid of everything. let’s just have, i just, i just want plumbing, art a steady stream a community and Lucy and i suppose modern medicine…… and a big mac and a decent rosé               i want death to all Apps except clock and notes and voice […]

Lucy Van’s book of poetry The Open, published by Cordite and recently long-listed for the Stella Prize, is made up of mostly prose poems. The sentences that make up Van’s prose are very fun and full of life. Merlinda Bobis in her Introduction puts it well: ‘We’ve just touched what’s here, or are about to touch it, when apprehension is quickly unsettled, halted or reconfigured.’ This is true from sentence to sentence, the way they are stacked.

will is standing the closest to the auctioneer (ian.). it is spitting. it is hot, then cold. wearing jackets of duck down. edelweiss. eight dogs mark their way around a spool of buyers. it is a buyers’ market. it is 3 hazelnut court. it could be 16 cherryberry drive. it could even be 92 foregone road. we are on the hill, jolly like a dog, watching will.