Brisbane Poems Adrift For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are still able to endure and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying. Rilke “That guy’s gotta see us!” Followed by a long screech, a skid, then silence and then the thud of… Liam Ferney weiterlesen
Kategorie: Lit-Mag #22
International Literary Magazine – December 2001
Sylvia Petter
Eyes to See I’m on the Swiss Intercity from Zürich to Geneva and have just left my husband back in Vienna. I just walked away. And I cried, as I know he will when he finds my note on the dining room table: “We don’t see things with the same eyes.” I slept surprisingly well… Sylvia Petter weiterlesen
Neil Grimmett
New Shoes for Trumpy The first time I saw him was in our shift room. We were coming in on mornings — early mornings. The night shift were already changed and lying on benches or sagging against walls looking ashen and mean like vampires that have failed to feed and sense the approaching ray of… Neil Grimmett weiterlesen
Yvette Walker
Dinner Companion Poems Home Your resemblance to Odysseus Becomes horrible and horrible. You acquire the sea length beard And the ship bones, the old dog And the promise of a bent bow. I haven’t bothered with tapestries For months now. I have no words To say to you. I write you like A lyric, like… Yvette Walker weiterlesen
Michael Crane
24 Postcards From the End of the World Postcard Dear citizens of Earth, We are the defeated and the betrayed. We are the vagabonds begging forgiveness. We are the crippled and the maimed. We are alone and unloved. We are the aged and the weary. There is no happiness or joy. There is no depression… Michael Crane weiterlesen
Thomas Reichl
Kugellager Der Aufseher betrat den ihm zugeteilten Bereich, kümmerte sich jeden Tag neu um die Ordnung im Kugellager, verschob bei Bedarf einige Kugeln, die über Nacht von ihrer Stelle gerollt waren und neu eingerichtet werden mußten. Wenn die Langeweile zuschlug, nahm er sich eine Handvoll Kugeln und jonglierte so lange, bis ihm eine der Kugeln… Thomas Reichl weiterlesen
Gerry Gray died 16 November 2001
Somewhat Different Poems – a memorial PLATEAU Talk, just talk. It’s enough, it has to be, A drought in all else. Cruelty dictating to romance. A wish, just a wish, Human at any age. Suppression reigns As well it must. A look, just a look, Cat and king personified. But, Oh! so green! Costing nothing,… Gerry Gray died 16 November 2001 weiterlesen
John Kidd
Living in Proximity to the Tasman Bridge 1. From a window. Colourlessly, ghosts of cars, trucks, buses, relentlessly, into and out of the sight-line, cross the bridge. Silent puffs of cloud, discreet molecules, almost real. They are cloud, they come from cloud, go into cloud, elevated. Beneath them is the grey insipid sky of the… John Kidd weiterlesen
Anna Hoffmann
FUNDUS UTERUS VULGÄRLATEIN (I) DIE GRAMMATIK DER ABHÄNGIGKEIT schlag mich beiß mich gib mir tiernamen eine endgültig abgesetzte serie von schauergeschichten oder das mutterprojekt das gescheiterte wollen: meine hypotenuse reagiert sauer und das feindbild scribbelt oberschenkel auf papierhorden. die gebrauchsanweisung eines toasters reicht heute zum erleiden also zur lyrik abgerubbelt von den weltneuheiten der schreibgeräte… Anna Hoffmann weiterlesen