Posts Tagged Poem

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November 15, 2018 by Simon Sweetman

Poem: Cunt Hunt

Remember “Cunt Hunt”, he said. And he said it like it was a kick-ass Beastie Boys song or a Tarantino flick, or some must-see TV show from back in the weekly episodic daze… but I did remember it. Remembered it – sadly – so well. We were having a party. Some guy’s birthday. And I’d […]

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November 7, 2018 by Simon Sweetman

Poem: The Appearance of Disappearance

To pack a bag, and run away – but just for a day, there’s a job to do, and bills to pay, and other things to do – that’s the current dream. What a day for a daydream… I’m lost in a daydream looking for my heart in any old art.                         This will have to […]

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November 4, 2018 by Simon Sweetman

Lit-Sync For Your Life: LitCrawl 2018

This Saturday (November 10) I’ll be part of Lit-Sync For Your Life – which is part of LitCrawl 2018. LitCrawl is a series of literary events in Wellington across November 8-11 (you can check out my recent podcast with the event’s co-creators to get the full run-through of this year’s program). Lit-Sync For Your Life […]

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November 1, 2018 by Simon Sweetman

Poem: We Bonded Over Sonny Rollins and Faith No More And Lenny Kravitz And So Much More

We lost a good one this week, a soldier no longer reporting for duty – his war over; he wore it as well as he could, I guess. If you asked me to take a guess on who might succumb – and how fucking gross and dumb – I might just have stammered his name. […]

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October 6, 2018 by Simon Sweetman

Poem: lovesong

i trace the space where i’m sure you found your soul. i had left mine there when i lost all control, i’ve been travelling bare – but it’s been a beautiful ride. and i’m always safe. you know all the best places to hide – and you’re always dressed to impress. one of many things […]

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September 17, 2018 by Simon Sweetman

Poem: How To Beat Poetry!

Jack Kerouac’s sonorous voice rotted more brains than just his own. Mine was nearly one. Mine was nearly won. Mine was nearly wondering. Mine was nearly one-dimensionally focussed for a time. Old Jack and Bill and Corso too, the best minds of my generation were destroyed by cell phones, internet rage, intermittent signalling all around […]

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September 16, 2018 by Simon Sweetman

Poem: The Flat On The Terrace

i walk along the terrace, see the flat i lived in for years and years i had no cares, back then, beyond knowing where the next CD was going to come from. my flatmates thought i was mad. and these were people that cheated on their girlfriends, took carving knives with them for late night […]

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September 7, 2018 by Simon Sweetman

Poem: Name-Drop…What A Cock!

the night we launched the book we went out for a bit of a feed after, and more drinks – not too many, mind. I had a big interview the next day. And a mate of mine – with experience talking to camera and interviewing everyone – told me I really needed to get my […]
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