Poetry

Poetry.

Poetry.

My father, whose name was Ben, loved telling stories. It was from his storytelling sessions with my Uncle Charlie that I first understood Pythonesque one-upmanship. These competitive narratives consisted of colourful descriptions of shoeless boys collecting firewood in the snow…

To write poetry you don’t have to like it. I’ve been increasingly recognising that language and its correlatives in music and art are not the pure coordinates or sole arbiters of poetry. There are two issues evolving out of these…

the house with the light burns all night. it seems to be empty: she never hears or sees anyone coming in or out of the door. she never sees anyone through the window—not even a flicker of movement. but every…

I’ve only been here three years, so what would I know? I’ve only worked in four areas, how much have I seen? Enough, surely—if the average tenure is eighteen months, as they said when I joined, then I’m practically an…

I would like to discuss how the emergent area of Creative Writing in Australian universities might be situated in relation to what have become known as the New Humanities. The first question to ask is what are the New Humanities?…