Friends, I am late for walking my parent’s dog, Dolly. Yesterday Dolly helped me by panting and following my every toe placement around the house as I and gorgeous E unpacked boxes into my new home, in Glebe. Today though, I left her to sleep at mother and father’s house as her ancient Staffy coat was beginning to smell out the wood polished floorboards of the new home.
I’m writing to let you know that the event at Parliament House, on Wednesday last, was great fun. With a mixture of readers – politicians, poets, musicians, students, reading their work. The crowd was mostly over thirty, except for The Red Room crew and Francis from The Week and the audience was Anglo Saxon and did not reflect the diversity of poetic cultures in the state. What was successful included the venue, the involvement of politicians, the guest readers, the partnerships developed between Red Room and The Week and the Government and the magnificent greenery looking in at us, from the Botanic Gardens.
As I had no inviting to do myself it meant minimal anxiety over bums on seats and even when there were no seats left, I was able to close my worries and concentrate on the poems being read. David Malouf and Judith Beveridge were stars.
The division bell, to everyone’s annoyance, rang through Judith’s final poem only to cease the moment I took the microphone – a frustration for all. For once, cheese platters didn’t look like an impoverished last minute attempt at sophistication.
On the Sea front – we’ll be holding our Brisbane duffle bag exchange this Wednesday at 11AM, in Brisbane. Make certain any of you with poems, turn up and slot your magic verse into the canvas bag, your very selves.
