glass slides between and beyond two events: the death of a close friend of mine in an accident in Mexico, and a mysterious illness that left me unable to walk for much of the next year.
What other people say:
“When I read Rose Hunter’s poetry I am immersed in the flow of her music, as if the conscious world is an intensely coloured envelope of experience: wonder mixed with something dark and unpredictable. Anyone who can say “a cantaloupe is the fruit equivalent of a lobster” has my full attention.
—Angela Gardner, Editor, foam:e
“Rose Hunter’s poems decentre the speaking subject, shifting position from the absurd to the oneiric, from the colourful streets of Mexico to Brisbane. Part-diary, part-confession, glass is a delicate and resilient collection, a hybrid language answering poetry’s questions of memory and desire.”
—Michelle Cahill, Editor, Mascara Literary Review
“These are highly polished and controlled poems wielded with great skill and a consequent audacity that comes from getting it right.”
—Angela Gardner, full review at foam:e
“The rarity of end-stopped lines and the way in which Hunter positions the sentences across the page accentuates the free associative design of her syntax. … Glass in many ways reads like one extended poem.”
—Kishore Ryan, full review at Cordite
“With a wounded yet resilient drifter surfing its pagglaes, this collection of poems is a modern-day gospel of the picaresque.”
—Mags Webster, full review at TEXT
Buy it from Five Islands Press.