Johanna's BlogMichael Brennan
b. 1973, Sydney
Michael Brennan's first collection, The Imageless World (Salt, 2003) was short-listed for the Victorian Premier’s Award for Poetry and won the Mary Gilmore Award. In 2006, he undertook residencies in Berlin and Paris thanks to the Marten Bequest Travelling Scholarships, the Literature Board of the Australian Council for the Arts, and the Cité Internationale des Arts, Paris. That same year, Brennan published a chapbook titled Language Habits, followed in 2007 by a chapbook collaboration with Japanese artist Akiko Muto, ???, translated by Yasuhiro Yotsumoto. An artbook collaboration with Sydney artist Kay Orchison titled Atopia and a second collection from Salt titled Unanimous Night are forthcoming. He is a lecturer in the Faculty of Policy Studies, Chuo University, Tokyo, and director of the small independent publisher, Vagabond Press. He is also the Australian editor of www.poetryinternational.org and director of Vagabond Press.
Who is Alibi Wednesday?
Don't worry too much, it's all taken care of.
That's what the city tells you. You're goo-goo about it,
fresh off the boat, looking to be the grit in its dozen oysters.
The tide runs in and out of Sydney Harbour, as though
the city was breathing. It's been doing it for years!
Only after the pretty blonde from the Welcoming Party
checks your papers does she snip the stitches from your lips
and pass you a Southerly Buster. The smugglers told you
the truth: this city squeals delightfully in equal portions of
vodka, ice and speed. It's a heady mix, and after your forty days
in the desert, you're looking for a bit of fun. You're so happy
you shout beautiful curses in a language no one understands.
When the gutterals catch on, you end up in a succès de scandal
corrupting the local dialect and importing foreign literature in bulk.
The executioner rolls in, all black mask, bowie knife and speech
pathology. When you feel the blade's tongue lick your throat,
you are still giddily scratching surfaces, falling in love with the city.
