Black Doris Press
There’s something art naïf about ‘The Blue Outboard’. I say this, not as a pejorative. Nicholas Williamson is a master of childlike comprehension of the world and its colourful inhabitants. He disinters magic latent within the everyday. Like the cover painting, and the two sumptuous colour plates that accompany the text, Williamson’s text is vivid in its sincerity. His world is a place of block colour and outline, where the animate and the inanimate interact. Often characters are framed by objects. Poems such as ‘Alone with a hoe’, and ‘Blue enamel colander’ resurrect the gestures of his parents, the focal objects acting as portals to a former time. The poetry that follows is emotionally nuanced and nostalgic, as from ‘Alone with a hoe’:
His words come out of my mouth.
He’s in my mirror each morning.
Sunflowers lean against his shed’.
tree to watch the moon
spread like tinfoil
Hinemoana Baker, Ulrike Almut Sandig, Glenn Colquhoun, Uwe Kolbe, Brigette Oleschinski, Chris Price
Victoria University Press $30.00
of it stone warms as I drift, soft’...
Each band of poems brings with it a distinct voice. Some of the poems confront the event of Venus’ transit head-on, while others invoke Goddesses and aliens and Maori demi-gods. There is a sense that the human observer is a minnow in the scheme of things. From Ulrike Almut Sandig:
dreht sich der Globus immer’
‘look: even if I don’t move at all
the globe always turns’
‘The goddess won’t
be back this way for a century
or so, but just now she is at home
on every isle. We seize the day’
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