Archive for July, 2008


i don’t normally use this here thing to advertise events, thing you might physically want to ‘attend’, but today i will. chrissie has set up a much better site though, where you can check out just a few of the events i’ve helped organise here in wagga. go here. be amazed.

nathan curnow is a great performer. come along to the readings. yeah & we’ll also both be in albury this saturday, should you want to catch up for a drink or three (details here).


killer lighthouse


another exact midday
outside the communal –

reflected ankles,
blanket pink walls / doors.

following arranged time-ticks
& the solo improv of bikes

a clown meanders,
watching concrete


vague dusk.

the sex-toy
fossicks through barriers.

me installing the television
oh faux-jaunt
caught, like a shadow.

peter pan part two.
learning to smoke.

& much nearer than anything,
some fine conspiracy.


brendan went to NIDA

in this brief epoch we ache of sitting down kerplunk.
occasional blindness, earphones crumbling, reserve
carparks amidst alienating & thought-of flowers
sadly just because. some forms perforated,
shipwrecks gone awol. whomever my stuffed-
animals would reify in their boredom wakes
in the cupboard. alarm-clock of synesthestic intent,
mulled ideation under roof-beams (well
darker in any what of earth spin) suggests
beaches, people checking eggs, ‘the’, bindies.

‘for’ inside & roasting a mallowed question
life is foxy. just one pash in the blanket
graveyard of yet to do of pastel insinuations.
if miracles eventuate maybe begin to sketch
your dog in the nude glancing away. our worst
opposites got less different in every ashbery poem
certainly long recipes gyrate. i’m gone shouting
intractable slogans to wagons on the country road &
technology has a demeanour. go fuck yourself.



all the cool kids online are doing it, so here’s my wordle, based on what i’ve written during 2008:

‘like’ was always bound to pop up as the number one term…


my review of origami shipwreck, by craig perez & katy acheson, is now live at galatea resurrects. it looks like there’s some interesting stuff up there, including one by tim – i might do a bit more browsing tonight.

this is my second review placed there. the first was an engagement with pam brown’s peel me a zibibbo last year.

i’m not too prolific with my reviews. but it’s a process i enjoy, & there will be a couple more to look out for this year.


improv dirt

never give all the heart,
for love’s a clabbering
supercluster, occluding while
he that made this (knows
all the cost) comes: a sub-
classed article, coming like
ice in clipped snowclouds /
i made the news once but
never give all the heart /
looking ambient, the cat-
clawed exclusionist
granduncle that made this
disclaims barnacles &
associated narratives
(so, it seems, for love)
in every cleft of ocean
remember never give


disc of love

tourists look to the skies trees continually disappoint
the expectations of others, this flush of morning, this
way you will come to hate yourself & hate the crass
footfalls in response too they will be charmed by
your distress, this fuck of a page, distress charming
you (complicity over continuation) i’m a musty cellar
in a harry potter adventure you will mount the stair
in that cute otherness of expectation (flush) but if
anything, this setting of urban garden, strangers
were charmed by the distress in your gait (swank)
bling of hips & thigh you will come to along apt
gravel walkways, this feeling of vermillion, &
expectations got valid last week (text: capital)
handshakes never known to disappoint like stupid
pedestrians looking to the maps to continually
disappoint the expectations of their kids or earrings,
this shish kebab epoch, you’re a reference to culture
like all the others, this way (go on green) you will
come to hate yourself & the little blips of a google
map they will be charmed by your distress, this
banal line of direction, (clouds skate with friends)


poetics of speaking too

i meant to make something of it quite a while ago, but kerryn goldsworthy published an article on blogging – ‘Product, Practice, Private, Public’ – in the last issue of HEAT. there’s much in it, but one little part of interest: ‘…blogging is a way to socialise without the extra strains of being physically present…’ & a matter of extending the way you communicate with people, not a limiting occupation.

i am, eventually, drained by the physicality of ‘being present’. i need to withdraw & regather; many other people, i know, do not. so blogging extends my act of private thought & internal communication into a public act, an act with social reach. i like that.

because physicality is a process in flux. like desire, like the meeting of eyes, like sex. engaging & abating. how many of us sleep within a lover’s arms? after an engagement or not? limbs entangled, heads on breasts etc. if memory serves me correctly the sleep patterns of couples is prone to assimilation: positions are reversed: foetal positions facing the same direction for the most. & then even the rolls begin to subliminally coordinate – i face left, you face left; i roll, you roll.

there’s a need to gather one’s thoughts, desires & motives for action (writing).  supra-physical conversation & collaboration allows a gathering with immediacy. in fact it’s more physical as if by design. we are not products of our imaginations but products of our methods.


the poetics of speaking

on this blog, where, my utterances are fairly instant (the ums invisible though).

i turned the computer on; as i secretly suspected there was a wireless connection waiting.

with plastic credit, the world is waiting. thereby immediacy is on my side.

………………………………………(the computer is capitalism!)

peter asked a question about resistance: movements or generations are often defined by their

‘resistance’. resistance to certain societal norms, that as always have a reach,

a creep into poetic / artistic expression? keri hands the microphone to me.

i simply don’t have an answer. nick placed us as opposing capitalism,

& that’s fair enough. i’m still a little struck with the silliness of being placed

: up there as a generation, or even as a group of people.

other people then want to relate to you as a ‘group’,

with somewhat similar tendencies & motives & methods.

kate asked about ‘what we’re writing about’ & wow i didn’t want

to answer that one either. astrid read something from her blog.

there’s the counter-thrust &/or parry. too combative? um,

yeah. but i can’t say too much. speaking is riddled with despair.

i do like being kept alive by re-arranging data, plucking stuff,

setting a pattern, making it age in new ways, & it’s probably

most ethically sound to be uncertain. a valid springboard position.

an old trampoline of paradox kept out back, next to the shed

where petrol smells always inhere, regardless of your attempts.




wearing a scarf

doing a couple of helter u-turns

exporting to pdf

thinking of those already in melbourne

enjoying cake laurinda cooks

playing tony hawk

eating pizza with peppers

making tea with sugar

sleeping with paracetamol

dreaming of emails & the pthwck of chat boxes


Recent tweets (keredm)


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