Furniture Is Disappearing

Name: Furniture Is Disappearing
SKU: 14420
Price: 19.00 AUD
Availability: InStock

Winner, 2014 IP Rolling Picks Best First Book

Starkly unaware of herself and struggling to make the passage from child to adult, the narrator in this collection points the finger, repeatedly exposes her heart and wonders why things just never seem to work out. Join her flirtations with strangers, intoxicating relationships and explorations to the edge of the void. This is poetry of the imagination where madness grows, memory holds sway and the night is an octopus â€œawkwardly getting caught. Tentacles fastening onto telegraph polesâ€¦

Gemma White

Gemma White is a poet living in Melbourne, Australia. Her first collection of poetry, Furniture is Disappearing, was published in 2014 by IP. She shares her knowledge of poetry on her website, where she offers a free 5-day email poetry course. You can also sign up on her website to receive her e-newsletter for her latest writing news. Gemma has been published in many Australian literary magazines and journals, including Best Australian Poems. She also studied poetry at The University of Melbourne and The University of Edinburgh.

Sample

50

We start the fires
We bring the rain
We praise the sun
We lick every new frond
in our love of the infinite

We salivate over every flower
We drum the limbs alive
We lay naked underneath the sun
We kiss while standing in cool streams
We slap the waves with pleasure
as we roll right into the sands

We are here forever and
for just a moment combined
We awaken the skies
for we are sublime

49

i-text i-talk i-eat i-drink i-piss i-piss
i give no shits

i-take i-walk i-eat i-piss i-waste i-want i-buy
i buy

i-text i-pout
i-throw
shit out

i-come i-conquer
i wank

i-eat i-work i-buy i-jerk
i-waste i-want
i fuck

i-bin i-bin i-want-to-win
i-selfie i-drink
i try not to think

i-win i-win
i push away

i-vomit i-drink i-piss i-sleep
i-shit i-eat i-waste i-want
i pile more on

i-eat i-text i-talk i-talk
i-pout i-push i-try
i try

i-wish i-strain
i-vomit again
i-fuck it all up

i push you away

48

My madness is a burnt orange fox
Most of the time it is contained to its burrow
Occasionally it draws a crimson streak across life
Like a mandarin cloud at sunset
Its hues echo