last night i dreamt the queensland literary premier's award wz axed

last night i dreamt

the queensland premier/s awards for writing
were axed
funding cut
what a nightmare
jst like that

bt it wz what happened next
tht woke me sweat-up:

they axed the awards
& every wordsmith in the country
got together
& unwrote about it
no newspaper in the country stayed in print
tongue-tied newsreaders pushed on without autocue
& every english teacher in the country
made their class sit the full forty-seven minutes
quietly not reading
the football went uncommentated
there were wz no announcement / song lyric
or talkback on any airwave
anywhere in australia
the speechwriters quit
politicians everywhere were made out
to be the fools they mostly are
bookstores closed their doors
even amazon & co
shut down their aussie portal
the theatres were empty
actors taped their mouths
comedians bowed their heads
& sombrely sat down
the advertising industry
wz at a standstill
the cinemas were picketed
& for seven nights on every street corner
small mountains of books
became nothing
bt firewood

by the time i woke up
the queensland premier
sure wasn’t looking so good

An Open Poem to Australian Poetry, from Australian Slam Poetry

Show Us Where You're Publishing was first published on this blog here in 2009, and also featured in Miscellaneous Voices, Australian Blog Writing #1 (Miscellaneous Press, 2010). Now seems an opportune time to revisit it.


the thing is / i have been writing some
& if so inclined cd mic those thoughts
across / & blow your mind
i wrote a poem just last night
& not just anything
bt one-a those damn-i-just-gotta
read-this-to-somebody-it
just-might-be-genius pieces:
yoko ono wz always gonna be a problem
it’s called

see / i cn tell yd dig it
just from watching you
digest the title

i wd like to broadcast it
bt here’s the thing:

the centre’s been looking
for poets to tour again
where r you publishing
show us where you’re publishing
they're asking

packing bars / & radio waves
doesn't seem to mean a thing
they just want to see the paper
where r you publishing your poems

as if all that matters is print destination
& not that almost a hundred people
wd brave horizontal rain to get to
somewhere you’re doing your thing
on stage

i wanna give you a poem / bt
i’m broke & it’s that time of year
again / when every god forsaken writer
in this place / comes
shaking the tin & fillin those
applications / i wd like
to be able to give you
a poem / bt my children
are hungry
& once again those folk
are saying
without saying it:
that thing you do
nah / you serious
don’t even come knocking

the real problem with australian poetry

& then / you know what she says?

what the f*ck / seriously
this is what that crazy woman says
she says y’know the real problem
with australian poetry today is...

i mean / like she knows anything
about poetry / bt no bull / right
this is what she says
the problem with australian poetry today
is tht it is mostly read by
middle-aged-white-heterosexual
armchair lefty men

that is seriously what she said

& she didn’t even stop there
she said the problem with
australian poetry mostly being read
by middle-aged-white-heterosexual
armchair lefty men
is tht they only want to read poetry written
by middle-aged-white-heterosexual
lefty men / who are occasionally
adventurous enough
to leave their bloody chair

i know
what the f*ck?
she wz pretty drunk / bt still
i mean / no wonder
they don’t publish
people like her