David Adès Martyr Who is that woman walking so serenely between agitations of us and them, as if there were a middle way, and what does she hope to achieve, so willingly forfeiting her life to crossfire, or the deadly passions of the mob? David Adès is an Australian poet whose most recent book Afloat […]
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David Adès “Harvest”
David Adès Harvest We gathered in our harvest, the harvest of generations, and knew again what many had forgotten: the lean years that followed the years of plenty, where all that we had planted grew, no longer to feed us but to consume us. David Adès is an Australian poet whose most recent book Afloat […]
Read MoreDavid Adès “In the Present”
David Adès In the Present The past keeps surprising me by knocking at my door unbidden with its quiver full of arrows but I know it is the future that stalks me now as deadly and indifferent as all the gods. David Adès is an Australian poet whose most recent book Afloat in Light is […]
Read MoreDavid Adès “The Times We Live In”
David Adès The Times We Live In The picked clean ribcage of an old shipwreck lies on the beach as remnant, no less than the skeleton of all our certainties, exposed now as myths, and this endless grief, not for all things lost but for all things believed in that were nothing more than wind […]
Read MoreDavid Adès “Quest”
David Adès Quest Stillness: the inland sea explorer after explorer died to find. David Adès is an Australian poet whose most recent book Afloat in Light is available through UWA Publishing at https://uwap.uwa.edu.au/products/afloat-in-light.
Read MoreDavid Adès “On the Cusp of Another Birthday”
David Adès On the Cusp of Another Birthday Shopping again at the Department Store of Loss — pockets full of the currency of memory — I talk to myself to breach the silence, marveling at how the stock has grown though nothing is on sale here, nothing is free, and at how easy it is […]
Read MoreDavid Adès “Invisibility Cloak”
David Adès Invisibility Cloak In bed, I feel her body right there, the firmness of it imprinting shape into mattress, her breathing, the flapping wings of her lungs — so it takes years for me to understand that she shimmers like a hologram, a love I can pass my hands through, and what I think […]
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