Published in Overland Issue 205 Summer 2011 Reading Jennifer Maiden woke up in The Lodge Angela Smith Jennifer Maiden woke up in The Lodge during National Poetry Week. The PM’s popularity ratings had dipped to an all-time low and her media machine had advised her to chat up some poets in a desperate attempt to regain some ground from Tony. Rambling poetry readings by superannuated academics drinking plonk from plastic cups was not Julia’s scene so she’d invited the Maiden to stay at The Lodge. The PM’s minders had given her a copy of JM’s book Friendly Fire. Julia couldn’t see much resemblance to poetry in the untidy verse but she didn’t have to read between the lines to get the poet’s drift on politics. The PM was worried that Jennifer would quiz her about Kevin Hillary Iraq unauthorised maritime arrivals and what Julia saw in Tim (apart from a daily blow-dry) and that her answers would surface in the poet’s next book. So the PM turned on the TV to avoid a Q&A. Julia didn’t know much about poetry but she knew that a poet’s fire was hardly ever friendly. Angela Smith Angela Smith's writing has appeared in many publications including The Guardian, Griffith Review, Meanjin, New Philosopher and Overland. More by Angela Smith Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays 2 First published in Overland Issue 228 19 November 202127 January 2022 Reading Which One Are You? Madeleine Gray I had to innovate. I had to create a game that put the onus of invention and self-revelation back onto the players. And this is how I came up with my piece de resistance, my submission to the games hall of fame. It’s called ‘Which One Are You?’ First published in Overland Issue 228 31 March 202030 April 2020 Reading Your teenage reading will haunt you forever Zoe Deleuil Years after reading Flowers in the Attic, dark wardrobes and creaky houses and simmering men and thwarted women still lurk in my imagination. The book took lodging in my brain at a critical point, never to be evicted.