Jordie Albiston
Jordie Albiston has published seven poetry collections. Two of her books have been adapted for music-theatre, both enjoying seasons at the Sydney Opera House. Jordie’s work has won many awards, including the 2010 NSW Premier’s Prize. She lives in Melbourne.
I went to the shooter’s house pled shoot me
shoot me open my chest like an unread
book blast my colophon break my spine let
all my pages fly out look recto vers-
o I am a box & aimed a finger
right here at my heart there are poems in
there you can hear their din each tiny word
weighs a ton I-am-out-of-everything
baby needs air but don’t mind me reload
your gun your bullets will taste just like love
it is cold she walks to the corner vers-
o recto left right left turns the corner
thinks about karma wonders exactly
which stars are extinct she steps stops forgets
remembers the whole world is dead as a
door-nail shot while it blinked someone said
a white car has had all its windows smashed
in it wasn’t there yesterday marry
me? is written high in the sky lucky
I went out the back for a bit before
the words passed away today is Thursday
it is seven past three a warm wind moves
through the trees someone is crying I am
pleased to report the results of such del-
icate signs the driver may be dead the
girl say no but I think yes! & alive
the day peeked in I wasn’t home flying
with fishes swimming with birds driving my
car upside down tomorrow is coming
it says on the news I may or may not
be in it time is gone still it’s tricky
to tell this day is made up of minutes