So, the Judith Wright Prize for 'new and emerging' poets (that would be moi) is open again. Peter Minter is judging it. I got nowhere in it last year.
I'm weaving the final stitches into the work, which revolves around the significance of nature in the face of possible terror on September 11 of this year. The piece I'm editing has more of a scatty layout than usual. The lines have been battered my stampeding bison, constricted by boas. I'm proud with the fact that I've loosened up and structured something differently. And that after months of soft focus on this work, everything's become pointed.
And that in the face of knock backs courtesy of Perilous Adventures, Southerly, the Blake Prize, the Dorothy Porter Prize, Australian Poetry Journal, the Dear Dad collection, Cordite & a couple of competitions, I've leapt back on the okapi*.
The poem's due on Nov 15.
LJ, November 4 2011.
* Okapi: weird red-brown and white horse-like beastie from the heart of Africa that can licks its own eyes (always handy).