cottonmouth (zine) march 2011

8/13/2019 Cottonmouth (Zine) March 2011

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ISSUE 23 MARCH 2011


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C O O N M O U H

I S S U E 23 M A R C H 2 0 1 1

editor S C O P A R I C K M I C H E L L

layout A M B E R F R E S H

C O O N M O U H is a monthly performance night which is produced in conjunction with a podcast and

publication. please direct all submissions or requests to [email protected] and be sure to check regular updates

online by visiting www.cottonmouth.org.au (.)

2011

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any other means electronic, mechanical,

photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission in writing by the publishers. Any work sent to

Cottonmouth is considered to be an agreement of use within Cottonmouth publications. Te opinions expressed in this

publication do not necessarily represent the views of the editor, publisher or Cottonmouth Committee.


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3ISSUE 17 2009

CONENS

im Wright6UVSFM DRIVING 4

Graham NunnREQUIEM 6

Marisa Allen

SRANGE CREAURES 7

Rachael MeadHE SORM 8

Cherish MarringtonUNILED 2 9

Corey WakelingVIEW FROM HE DIRECOR 10

Joseph Powers BowmanCASLE IN FORES 12

Jill JonesUNILED 13

Liam FerneyGO MORDECAI 14

Andrei ButersWHY NO VISI SERPENINE 15

Marisa AllenHE BES CAR BUMPER SICKER I EVER SAW 16

Nicole NorelliERRAMOO 17

Benjamin HartA BORROWED FAIH 18

Joseph Powers BowmanLARGE BUILDING WIH REES 19

Liam FerneyRYANAIR FROM ROME 20

Graham Nunn

WHA HE HERON KNOWS 21

Cherish MarringtonUNILED 1 22

Faustina Delaney3:59AM 23

Narelle GouldenCHILDS PLAY 24

Clayton LinJAMES DEANS COA 25

CONRIBUORS 28

ISSUE 2 3 2011


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COONMOUH4

6UVSFM DRIVING

im Wright

back from

Perth Airport

in a arago in 1998

Agoraphobic Nosebleed

(on the radio)

Isuzu in front

the letters V

and

Z Japanese comics shellacked to a suitcase

white Peter Stuyvesants

speed in a wallet

at the

iridologist

after 3:05pm

Before the internet...


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5ISSUE 17 2009

Before

the opshops close

the long grass is growing

thick and fast

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COONMOUH6

REQUIEM

Graham Nunn

Te National Museum of dreams

is closed on Mondays. Ad Infinitum.

In the petting zoo, a lamb rehearses

Bachs requiem. You cant sleep.

You imagine youre a butcher;

your mother awakens on the table

& in front of all the other men

grabs your cleaver & wags it at you

shouting, dont you dare mention my

appendectomy. Your written exam asked

Heart? & you answered B, the empty

chamber of a gun. Even the shooting

range is closed on Mondays. Rehearse

in your glass house, a requiem

for the final dream beneath your ribs

that catatonic feeling. You are adding

an appendix to the list of Mondays closures:

the melodies of caged animals, it begins,

jars of morning air, the instrumental

ache of hunger.


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7ISSUE 17 2009

SRANGE CREAURES

Marisa Allen

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HE SORM

Rachael Mead

clouds held afternoon sun underall day isobars tumbling together

drew the sinew from our limbs

the first wave blew us into bed

the wind, lost in the steep maze of valleys, panicked

thrashing around the house as if caught in a net

forcing its fingers under the gutters, trying to peer in

as if we held the secret to escape

gum nuts hailed tin in staccato

snare drum counterpoint to woodwind howl

all night we waited for the birds

to peal the all clear

at dawn we emerged to a shuffled worldthe blue spruce parasol missing a rib

and the road under the stringybarks now soft forest path

strewn with wild prunings of the storm gardener


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9ISSUE 17 2009

UNILED 2

Cherish Marrington


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VIEW FROM HE DIRECOR

Corey Wakeling

Tere are plans for a director. She will be

an old blossoming tree with bluebells in hertrunk. A statuary. A chandelier. Within her

cavities a hundred-thousand infant possums

will abide. Does this have anything

to do with that blue lagoon at her feet? Further,

has it been all her doing? As director, she

will first declare a boardroom table, then

a township under its guidance. Im not sure we

can predict her curatorial style. I am not sure of a

chandelier at all. In Clepsydra, the helicopter is

silent like a suburban rat, asking the best questions

from above. In Te Anaglyph, the questions

are drafted in a cinema, the show is of course

something asinine in 3-D, but all of its adult

jokes are collected studiously by this draughtsman.

Yes, these very notes, anticipated by her and her team,are mostly illustrations. Of modern life? Hardly.

Hardening. Closer to woodblock printing, and yet

this open diary is really just self-explanatory:

the apartment above a convenience store,

the cold of a mining town, a misplaced

New York sensibility, squares on a

monumental grid. Our director agrees modern life

is illustrating in a drawing-as-catharsis

workshop, the helicopter is landing

at the hospital as is its daily wont and

the draughtsman, however colour-blind,

saw enough and heard enough to

engage the architect in soliloquy. Before

answering the lagoon question since as

it stands the possums repose in its revitalisingwaters an appurtenance must be better


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11ISSUE 17 2009

interrogated. We can leave the individual

initiatives up to the contingencies of this new

town (that is, let them spar with their

creators as they wish, these young sports),

or we can fence the chandelier off in itshistorical vestibule, make a protective corner

within this old arts facility. What sphere

would adjudge the actual time of the blossoms fall?

Does it matter? I think it matters. It matters to her,

the director of this conference. Only time

will expose whether we should still be

sitting beneath her, whether her blossoms

are alive or dead, whether the edifices

surrounding her are homes or viewing

platforms. Bluebells from a trees thicket.

Or, are they like the possums, growing in the

hollows of her bough, of her belly? So

much is impossible. Nevertheless, we are

given the call to approach her, to do our

work. She doesnt tell us, but there is nowhere but the lagoon to rest, and so we

drop in. What kind of curatorship is this?

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CASLE IN FORES

Joseph Powers Bowman


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13ISSUE 17 2009

A SECOND IS only a sample of how

a roof becomes rain.

Ive been careless with corsets.

When the sex machines on the blink

turn up yr radio, is it the sound

of silver pumping?

Teres too much ash and

not enough syntax

to make me watch with my baby tonight.

If prime ministers could shelve their selves we

could all be walking to boot.

A mosquito yaps into

the shimmering yard, if the darks

dark thats perception for you, boom tish

but wait, its the milky waystaggering up there.

Ladies and gentlemen, heres to the aliens

yes to al l those yeses.

Te rose isnt as ancient as its seed

but it opens, dung is juice

and the zipper is broken.

But you cant recall your species anymore

they wont listen.

Succumbing isnt an answer

nor is it a question

and you could be right

or frustrated by imagination.

Lets fall without sleeping this once.

UNILED

Jill Jones

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GO MORDECAI

Liam Ferney

Like Muril lo fallen from a ladder,

I have tumbled from my dream.

Pierced as surely as Sebastian,

eyes weary as 3AM 7/11.

Ten after the catastrophe,

dawn, a waiter

at a restaurant you can't afford,

brings its cheque.


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15ISSUE 17 2009

WHY NO VISI SERPENINE

Andrei Buters

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COONMOUH16

emptiness fills the emptiness

i like to run my eyes over surfaces

i count the surfaces with my eyes

At Hanger,

i fall asleep

i fall asleep at parties too

some places just deserve a portal

HE BES CAR BUMPER SICKER I EVER SAW

Marisa Allen


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17ISSUE 17 2009

Current mood: forgotten

everything is distances

next to you.

dissolving,

earth-ridden, dense and holy.

triassic.anima.

intuit.

matter.

matter of fact

dirt moves

a desire quakes

matters of the heart concerning.

ERRAMOO

Nicole Norelli

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COONMOUH18

If you want to get by you have to learn the rules.

You can borrow this but I want it back,

she said and passed a tattered book,

its symbol marked with crossing lines.

With open hands I smiled broad

and kissed her gloss enamel lips.

I burnt the book inside her church

and made a pact with god aloft

to always break the fucking rules.

A BORROWED FAIH

Benjamin Hart


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19ISSUE 17 2009

LARGE BUILDING WIH REES

Joseph Powers Bowman

ISSUE 2 3 2011


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RYANAIR FROM ROME

Liam Ferney

you promised to read dante with four eyes.

could it really be

jbt?

the colours fade but the spillage

of a holiday reminds me:

a poster for fronte del porto

postcards from tuscany gum for the plane.

there were mornings after nights

that i smoked far too many cigarettes

watched a hot air balloon rise over surrey.

that freshly peeled kaleidoscopic mandarin,

its basket bright with dragon breath

above a frost covered field.

still a child

like the high schooler at graduation,

it segued over the horizon

in search of strawberries and champagne.

mud on my cuffs when i wonder

could we really have been contenders?


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21ISSUE 17 2009

WHA HE HERON KNOWS

Graham Nunn

is it takes effort

to stand still,

silence is an elegy

for the dying light

and each breath

is a prayer

for those who move

along the stuttering

whiteness of flood-lit asphalt,

away from the savannahs

of our origin,

those smooth, descending

pastures to the sea.

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UNILED 1

Cherish Marrington


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23ISSUE 17 2009

3:59AM

Faustina Delaney

And here are all your dreams, packed like innocent bystanders before a train

crash.

Packed in cardboard boxes that once contained fruit from interstate and

overseas. Stolen from the markets an hour before tomorrow. Scavenged from

supermarkets. Retrieved from last years move. You find yourself sleepless inthis now not home.

How strange to see life packed, as though it could be packed.

And in the morning all this will be cleaned up. Te walls sugar-washed. Te

floors swept up. Te window closed. And locked. And all the things we said

in this room or unsaid in this room will have gone. Washed. Sugar washed.

Blanked but for the key left on the kitchen bench.

ISSUE 2 3 2011


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COONMOUH24

My son was rescuing soldiers

with his new helicopter equipped

with stretcher and cables retractable.

Maybe its because theyre plastic

and cheap; still I couldnt help

noticing how quickly the soldiers

became amputees.

Im sure the manufacturers produce them

purely to ensure durability

is short lived; just a ploy to guarantee

well replace them

once damaged or broken. Easily disposable

once theyve outworn their use.

Te cunning satirical bastards.

CHILDS PLAY

Narelle Goulden


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25ISSUE 17 2009

JAMES DEANS COA

Clayton Lin

I borrowed James Deans coat

and I never gave it back,and now I cant,

because he came and went.

So I hold onto it,

a cushion, a tourniquet,

a memento mori

And its strangling me

Im size XL, but this coat is size M,

the buttons latch to me,

pinching and scarring,

contorting the body,

abrasions and rashes

break out on my skin

so I tried handing it

to the Salvos,

the Vinnies

and for once they both say nah.

Its not winter sale time,

the old women would reason.

So I tried selling it on eBay -

a customer would scream

how could he sell

such a valuable thing?!

And out of respect

no one would take it.

When it got dirty, I took it to thelaundromat. Te proprietor

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gazed at me evilly.

Aaaahhh!!! I scream. o my horror

when I pick it from the dryer,

Im size XL, but this coat is S.

Why did I borrow

James Deans coat?

It was just for one sweet night.

He happily obliged,

and like boys,

we leaped,

for a joy ride, in

his souped-up racing

speedster,

with milk bottles

in the air at 65 miles per hour,

dashed headlong like boys

into a crash course.

o this day,

James Deans coat

still wears me.

In the sun,

Ill hunch

and roast.

In the rain,

Ill curl

and get damp.

In the snow,

Ill hypothermia

in this bone

crushing straitjacket.


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Itll follow me

every footstep I take.

In this funeral suit,

making my last march

to the planetarium ofheaven vs. hell, wearing

James Deans coat.

It wears me well.

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CONRIBUORS

Tim Wright lives at the moment in Melbourne, where he is working on a thesis at

Monash University. He is involved with the online journal When Pressedand has a blogat http://swimswam.wordpress.net.

Graham Nunnis a founding member of Brisbanes longest running poetry event,

SpeedPoets. He blogs fiercely at Another Lost Shark:www.anotherlostshark.com and

has published five collections of poetry, his most recent, Ocean Hearted, published by

Another Lost Shark Publications in July 2010. His debut CD, recorded in collaboration

with Sheish Money, Te Stillest Hourwas recently shortlisted for the Overload Poetry

Festivals Aural ext Award

Marisa Allenis poet, songwriter, vocalist and violinist and front woman for the band

Bremen own Musician. She has performed at the 2009 Queensland Poetry Festival

performing from the chapbook Fire In the Head edited by David Ghostboy Stavanger.

Her work has been published in Going Down Swinging, Cottonmouth, Speedpoets Zine,

Outsiders Zineand various local street press.

Rachael Meadwas born in Perth and is currently undertaking a Ph.D in creative writingat the University of Adelaide. Last year she was published in Going Down Swinging,

Poetrixand Verandahand was awarded the Dorothy Hewett Flagship Fellowship at

Varuna.

Cherish Marrington lives in Perth. Her deliciously dark zine Te Funnyroomis out now.

Corey Wakeling is a poet living in Melbourne. His work has appeared or is forthcoming

in journals such as Cordite, Overland, Willows Wept Review, Art Monthly, foam:e, Steamer,

Etchings,theNZEPC, and theABR, newspapers Te Ageand Te Sydney Morning

Herald, and anthologies Some Sonnets,Nth Degree, and Te Reader.

Joseph Bowman (1752-1779)was an officer in the American Revolutionary War who

served in the Illinois campaign. Maj. Bowman participated in the 1778 capture of Fort

de Chartres, and remained there for some time as the commander of the newly renamed

Fort Bowman. While attending a victory celebration, Maj. Bowman was injured by


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an accidental gunpowder explosion and later succumbed to his injuries, becoming the

only American officer to die in the Illinois campaign. He now lives and works in Los

Angeles.

Jill Jones has published six full-length poetry books, including Dark Bright Doors,

published by Wakefield Press in 2010. She edited, with Michael Farrell, Out of the

Box: Contemporary Australian Gay and Lesbian Poets, in 2009. She has been a film

reviewer, journalist, book editor and arts administrator. She currently teaches at the

University of Adelaide.

Liam Ferneyis a Brisbane poet. His second collection Career will be published byVagabond Press in 2011.

Andrei Buters is a reporter by day and a secret comic artist at night. He has a giant

graphic novel that he wrote all the words for and drew all the pictures in. But he never

shows anyone. He grew up in Serpentine-Jarrahdale and he highly recommends the

place.

Nicole Norelli. Dabbler. Dribbler. Writer. Photographer. Editor. eacher. Performer.Involved in all things arts and culture since 1998. Eclectic. Eccentric. Deeply affected

and often shy out loud.

Benjamin Hartis just a lower working class resident of Gosnells, Perth, WA who has

devoted the greater part of his life, including five years of tertiary study, to the art and

craft of writing. His veins are filled with ink and the pages on his desk are soaked in

blood.

Faustina Minna Delanywas born in Osaka, Japan in the 80s, immigrated to Sydney

on Irish passports where they gave her and her mum mini party pies and a eucalyptus

tree. It perished a few months later. Now in Melbourne, writing and pasting pictures

on walls. Published by Ondru http://www.ondru.org/voice/2011/02/foreign-births-

and-deaths-registryBlogSpot, y tu.

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Narelle Goulden is 27, a high school teacher of English and History, with a Masters of

Creative Writing. She has a pet lizard called Liz.

Clayton Linis currently studying film and creative writing at Curtin University. He is

unemployed and dirt poor, but can write on the fly, and is developing his modest talent.And a bit cynical and self-deprecating, but also animated and open-minded. Also has a

barely-updated poetry site (but will try): http://spoken-breath.tumblr.com/


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Tanks to the Cottonmouth committee. Tey are Patrick Pittman, Scott-Patrick Mitchell, Simon Cox, Amber Fresh, oms

Ford, ristan Fidler, Glen Adams, Anna Dunnill, Sam Knee and Jeremy Balius. Our everlasting gratitude goes to former

committee members and BFFs Rebecca Giggs, Jessyca Hutchens, Matt Giles, Sean Wilson and Simon Mongey. Poster art by

tonne grammeSubscribe at cottonmouth.org.au for announcements and podcasts.

ISSUE 23 2011


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