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Thylazine: The Australian Journal of Arts, Ethics & Literature                                                                                                                                    #4/thyla4k-jb AUSTRALIAN POETS SERIES 4 The Poetry of Joanne Burns Selected by Coral Hull [Above] Photo of Joanne Burns by Loma Bridge, 2002. I hot air I ampersand I spill I elbow room I ghost I hot air it's all laid bare of butcher's paper white in the cathedral that's mislaid its roof, rolled out for the communion of the blind fold backdated with stealthy surprise; the secret behind the secret blowing itself away like a skeleton key Published in Sydney Mosaic (Australia). ampersand so you puff down the boulevarde huffy and patriotic as the global village idiot waving its torch towards zeus your personal best, o his koala eyes; you can piss in your lycra if you really have to, this being the chumpy age of the celebrity sweatshirt but remember there's no way you'll be issued a permit for that chandelier hair of yours to chill out in this athlete free zone, no tent on this phantom beach is to be tampered with we are already somnambulists waiting for the ufo charter to come lurching through the waves Published in Verse (Australia). spill i laze on my peach pink leather lounge as much as i can, watching the river do its thing through my gorgeous windows with their wrap - around gilt on the thirtieth floor of the luxor apartments, a pamper present from my latest divorce: from brian, banana, prawn and peanut king; most mornings i'm up at the crack of dawn to slap on the make-up before i windowlex the view (in case the birds have been doing their business, or something has left a smudge on the glass) - it's really quite poetic to watch the river winding its way through the city, like a dancer in a slow motion waltz, from here it looks to have sultry hips though i wouldn't want to get too close to its waters some days it can be a little too pongy and sometimes it turns a little too brown, like unwashed potatoes but i try to be tolerant after all it is nature and the blue of these sky villas' three swimming pools more than makes up for nature's sad side and i do feel so safe here with my frangipanni and tiger print walls - i can wave to dee dee my new friend from canasta she lives in that tower over fantail bridge way and boy does she have some husband stories to spill; sometimes when i feel really reflective after midnight and a cointreau or two i go out on the balcony and look down at the river and wonder what on earth it makes of us all, well it's been here since adam so it must have a thought or two, between those big banks or inside those mangroves though i doubt it would have such weird dreams as me, like last night when i got back from the perfume show buffet i fell asleep on my dressing room's suedette chaise lounge and dreamed my three ensuites had their own little ensuites just imagine the grouting that would need to be cleaned - Published in Blue Like Tea anthology (Five Islands Press, year unknown). elbow room they took to the river like wanton boys to flies tearing at the vivid calm in their sumo speedboats, reputation I-III; the big experience was their only experience, they were tickled pink with their oracular elbows whoosh whoosh varoom varoom how their craft chomped through the river's history like contestants in a guinness book of records tin can eating quest the next year when the drought set in with meteorological confidence they returned in a quorum of rowing boats gruff and jovial as usual and carried them over the rocks where the streams had done their disappearing act, video cameras perched on available parts of their noses, reputations dry and intact ghost this archive of loneliness who would have guessed the dust had arranged this biography of misery all those nuances of ad hoc livery; hard to put a finger on the way it all imposes, just sniff along the remains of the lino with its spartan script and the frail threads of those primeval scatter rugs, you'll get reacquainted Published in Island (Australia). About the Poet Joanne Burns Joanne Burns is a Sydney poet. She also writes short fiction, including monologues and future fictions. She is completing a new poetry collection all of me. A sample of her work, 'people like that', from a number of her books, was published by Picaro Press in the Wagtail series (No:1) in 2001. The title poem (a poem in 17 parts) from the out of print collection penelope's knees is to be published by Picaro Press later in 2002. Her work has been widely published in magazines, journals and anthologies around the world. Her writing has been produced for theatre and radio. The title piece from 'blowing bubbles in the 7th lane' has been produced as a radio drama by ABC Radio National, and a number of her monologues have also been produced by ABC Radio, most recently two monologues of obsession 'bare feet' and ergo sum', under the production title of 'missionary positions'.    [Above] Photo of Joanne Burns by Loma Bridge, 2002. I Next I Back I Exit I Thylazine No.4 (September, 2001)