New verse by the winner of the 2018 Ockham New Zealand national book award prize for poetry, Elizabeth Smither. Night time words to Ruby I hold you in my arms and say beautiful girl, beautiful girl. You do not want to go to bed: instead you say you’re instructed to lie between … Read more
The week’s bigget selling books at the Unity stores in Willis St, Wellington and High St, Auckland. WELLINGTON UNITY 1 The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck by Mark Manson (Macmillan, $35) Wellington succumbs to the lure of Manson’s liberating advice. We blame John Summers. 2 Warlight by Michael Ondaatje (Jonathan Cape, $35) “For … Read more
New verse by Kaipara poet Sam Hunt. Mum and Mary In the dream my mother is chatting with her friend, Mary, mother of Jesus – Mum and Mary sharing a joint. Mary tends to rabbit on about the cost of living, of everything ‘going up’; husband, Joseph, coming in lately … Read more
New verse by Wellington poet Tayi Tibble. Ode to Johnsonville’s Cindy Crawford 1. Once at a Jehovah’s Witness convention an old frightened man pleaded, Adrienne? Is that you? His face was a screwed-up ball of God-fearing agony and, accused, I blurted, No! I’m just her daughter! I remember the relief in his features; it was … Read more
Spinoff Review of Books editor Steve Braunias revives the revolutionary live email interview with a new star of New Zealand literature – the wildly talented Tayi Tibble, author of Poūkahangatus, her debut collection of verse which is launched later today by Victoria University Press. I’ve been thinking for a little while now that something extraordinary … Read more
New verse from Auckland writer CK Stead. Witchy Wellington A summer southerly sky grey the sea a beat-up and passing Grass Street I thought ‘Intolerable Lauris’ – not so much, or not just, the person but the name, the way those words seemed to belong together – good company, great fun, wordy and witty but … Read more
New verse by Dunedin writer Vincent O’Sullivan. Lines from way back The Senate seethes, as in an emperor’s reign. The deals are done, speeches endorse the corpse. Pussy and circuses stake out their claim. Immigrants, bankers, slip their varied hoops. Maggots exult that nature bred them white, Their slither vermicules to get it … Read more
New verse by Eastbourne writer Maggie Rainey-Smith. Jogging she is young white and affiliated to a famous writing school an MA no less I’m assuming she must run at the very least so I can’t take offence when she tells me to jog on because I already know I’m invisible typing my life … Read more
New verse by Oturehua writer Brian Turner. Small Town Blues To hell with the songs of birds, the buzzing of bees and the breeze breathing in the trees, there’s always someone who thinks the whole village appreciates their taste in music. Brian Turner, 2018 The Spinoff Review of Books is proudly … Read more
New love poetry by Wellington writer Hera Lindsay Bird. I want to get high my whole life with you i feel it in my leather hotpant pockets i feel it in my anime wind blowing through an alpine tennis resort overcome with wildflowers i feel it in my ironic valley girl hairflip I feel it … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer Jane Arthur, who pocketed $5000 last week as winner of the 2018 Sarah Broom Poetry Prize. Keanu is afraid I am afraid of the dark. But I mean that in a real philosophical way. – Keanu Reeves Keanu must seek out the light. The dark makes him feel so afraid: it’s … Read more
Neil Young, our man in London, reports on Hera Lindsay Bird’s appearance last week at the coolest bookstore belonging to the coolest literary magazine in the English-speaking world. A bowl of cold spaghetti hoops was on the kitchen table. Meghan Markle was on the TV with the sound off. In three days’ time I was … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer James Brown Liking Similes Here, the cicadas sing like Christian women’s choirs in a disused cotton mill. ‘Letter from the Estuary’ by Erik Kennedy When I hear cicadas, their singing always reminds me of Christian women’s choirs in a disused cotton mill. I picture the conductor’s arms bent in … Read more
New verse by Dunedin writer Victor Billot. The Hierarchy Invisible homeless The dead Care worker Solo mother (bad suburb) Loan shark Bottom feeder Dolt Poet Casual employee PhD in Fine Arts Intern Experimental rodent Minion Serf Serf (creative industries) Mid-career journalist Ten years to go and holding on desperately “Between jobs” Climate scientist Aspirational … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer Claudia Jardine. The Vodka Rondeau In the spare room there is a bed below the mould and rusted red of the top flat’s hot water tank, which burst and made the room so rank that you can’t sleep there clear-headed. We are the deaded; few drinks bled … Read more
All week this week the Spinoff Review of Books celebrates the rich, fascinating history of New Zealand literature. Today: Paula Green remembers Gloria Rawlinson, Auckland’s ‘famous young poet’ of the 1930s. Postscript by Steve Braunias. Gloria Rawlinson seemed old and frail in her wheelchair when I met her in the early 1990s. I was working at Auckland’s Art Gallery Bookshop, and … Read more
New verse by Hamilton writer Therese Lloyd. Roast Lamb for Christmas Dinner, For Example when I think of temporary things like this broken pencil that breaks more with each word or the marriage that I had once and then didn’t, or the way my father drank gin and tonic for breakfast on the last … Read more
In memoriam: Golden Bay poet Gordon Challis. Spinoff Review of Books literary editor Steve Braunias writes: Takaka writer Gordon Challis died on March 2. He was 85. His was a discrete presence in New Zealand poetry to the point where he was defined by absence: in 1960, Landfall editor Charles Brasch named Challis as one … Read more
New verse by Maraea Rakuraku, taken from a new anthology in English and te reo (translated by Jamie Cowell). when does it start? It’s not waving a flag, holding a banner, knowing what postcolonial theory means and when to use it, memorising quotes and lining them up like soldiers that are sent out in waves … Read more
New verse by Palmerston North poet Paula Harris. the life expectancy of a cloud I try to calculate if there is any point to health insurance or retirement savings or planning ahead women in New Zealand have an average life expectancy of 83.3 years giving us 3.3 years more than men … Read more
New verse by Kaipara writer Sam Hunt. My eldest brother the Atheist died Waitangi Day. No word from him no sign in vision or dream. He’s gone and gone for good like he said he would. My other brother, Jonathan, may he finds what he lives for a Catholic hereafter … Read more
New verse by Australian writer Eloise Grills. Independent woman I am an independent woman I pay for all my groceries Even for the nuts which I could Theoretically put through as Less expensive nuts At the self-checkout I pay the prescribed price I do not Need a man It’s easy like when … Read more
Amanda Robinson meets five Auckland writers who are stunningly good at a much-derided art form – spoken word poetry. Perhaps the most cringeworthy phrase in all the arts, the one that makes everyone recoil, including most poets, is “spoken word poetry”. But when it’s good, when a poem reading ends and you realise you’ve been … Read more
New verse by Dunedin writer Michael Hall. After… The organs begin shutting down is there a panic in the body’s house – a few resigned to stay like, in war, before the rat-a-tat advancement merely miles away of the grey enemy a hasty packing someone saying leave the piano, leave it another sits, … Read more
New verse by Auckland writer Courtney Sina Meredith. Y S scrubs the pots so give him Y P was there so give him Y X cleared her weekend so give her Y S wants kids so give him Y S stops calling unlikeable women ‘bitches’ so give him Y P sends a text … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer Nick Ascroft. This Beaver’s Thirst They flip you up your mom and pop and land you on your little feet. Some things they say can make you stop, but then you think, gee whiz that’s neat. And they were flipped up by their nans and caught with gentle hands … Read more
Vincent O’Sullivan assesses the 1957 Chrysler of New Zealand writing, Allen Curnow, the subject of a 700-page biography by the late Terry Sturm. “A big one.” It’s a phrase you’ll come across several times in reading Allen Curnow. It could be a fish caught off Kare Kare, a talent another writer didn’t have, an implied assessment … Read more
New verse by Tayi Tibble, who was awarded the prestigious Adam Prize at Victoria University’s IIML this week. In the 1960s an Influx of Māori Women Move to Tinakori Road in their printed mini dresses. Grow flowers on white stone rooftops to put in their honeycomb vases. Dust the pussy-shaped ashtray their husbands … Read more
New poetry – actually, she sent it in on Thursday, and we have rushed it to the head of the queue in these dry days of summer – by Hawkes Bay writer Marty Smith. To the trees of summer If we could start the poem again, walking backwards in a waterlogged sky which refuses … Read more