Published in Overland Issue 232 Spring 2018 · Uncategorized Where r those poems now Holly Friedlander Liddicoat it’s wednesday night I’m walking down King Street past the Dendy outside a man sitting with a typewriter with a milk crate with his hands clasped with a sign out front: ‘POEM 4 U’ it rains and I skirt people like puddles head bent + heading /somewhere now near the fork; outside Cream – another man – tall, skinny, dark hair, dark shirt, twilight, fervent – fat stack of papers in arms tries: ‘hey! free poem! free poem!’ me + two others shake heads downcast just keep on descent into new night keep down Enmore now as the city peels itself back like bark like posters from poles like poems from books destined for this rubbish bin (or the next) Image: Former Enmore Post Office / flickr Read the rest of Overland 232 If you enjoyed this poem, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four outstanding issues for a year Holly Friedlander Liddicoat Holly Friedlander Liddicoat has previously been published in Cordite, Otoliths, Rabbit, Seizure, Southerly and Voiceworks. In 2017 she edited poetry for Voiceworks and the UTS Writers’ Anthology and has twice been shortlisted for the UTS Writers’ Anthology Prize. Her first collection, Crave, is out with Rabbit in 2018. More by Holly Friedlander Liddicoat › 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 18 December 202418 December 2024 · Nakata Brophy Prize Dawning in the rivulet of my father’s mourning Yasmin Smith My father floats words down Toonooba each morning. They arrive to me by noon. / Nothing diminishes in his unfolding, not even the currents in midwinter June. / He narrates the sky prehistorically like a cadence cutting him into deluge. 16 December 202416 December 2024 · Palestine Learning to see in the dark Alison Martin Images can represent a splice of reality from the other side of the world, mirror truths about ourselves and our collective humanity we can hardly bear to face. But we can also use them to recognise the patterns of dehumanisation that have manifested throughout history, and prevent their awful conclusions in the present. To rewrite in real time our most shameful histories before they are re-made on the world stage and in our social media feeds.
