Julian Stannard
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Two poems by Julian Stannard
From The Garden of Eternal Poets i.m. Fleur Adcock 1934-2024 Woke up with a sore head. Much drinking on Po Toi Island. After the Exhibition of Lingering FragranceI picked up the message in Kowloon.Fleur’s been diagnosed with brain cancer. Spent the morning gazing at objects from the Forbidden City.I wept for the woman in…
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‘Tree in the Rain’: a poem by Julian Stannard
Tree in the Rain Go in peace,go with joy into the soft rainwhich never ends.Rain without end.Go in peaceunder the rainthe Liffey Arms, O’Rourke’s,the horses.Sundays without end.Rain without end. Some of us make our wayto the memory tree.Desmond has a list of the deadand he says a few wordsabout each onethough even as he speaksthe…
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A psycho-geographer slipping the coordinates of time: on Tim Cumming
Julian Stannard ‘You sit/down to put into words your reckoning.’ I don’t read Tim Cumming with any expectation of the anodyne. The title of his latest book (Knuckle, Pitt Street Poetry, 2019) suggests the experience, as ever, will be bracing. ‘The Knuckle End’ – almost the title-poem – considers the poet’s…
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Andrew Elliott – Only Disconnect
Julian Stannard Part of the pleasure of reading Mortality Rate is knowing so little about the man who wrote it. Some official data: Andrew Elliott was born in Northern Ireland in 1961 and is now living – according to the most recent reports – in East London. He is the author of two previous collections,…