Australian Poetry
High dungeon was a feeling I knew well
When mockery from men weighed on my soul.
As your Prime Minister I went through hell,
If I can say so without hyperbowl.
I am building my roof of turf my peaty sheath
a coveted blanket roll me up in it and I go out
like a light like the wisp rising at night
that country people swear they see and steer clear of
William Carlos Williams is a genius. And he has my lover’s initials. Or rather my lover has his initials. I often eat the plums that were in the icebox. But I don’t expect to be forgiven. Not everything depends upon that. Or the wheelbarrow of promises that still lies at the bottom of his heart. My lover likes plums. The ones with the tough skins and the scarlet flesh. Not the yellow ... ... (read more)
1.
Anywhere’s more homely
than this field day to mortality,
accumulating severances
that wrangle distance
like before and after’s rosary of rue.
So, summoned by that call across the wide
And complicated city, pressed
And yet reluctant to arrive,
We found among the ranks of the distressed,
The Turnrow Anthology of Contemporary Australian Poetry edited by John Kinsella
by Peter Kenneally •
The Best 100 Poems of Gwen Harwood by Gwen Harwood, edited by John Harwood
by Ann-Marie Priest •