Alison Georgeson




Appearing in another enclosure I slipped over to avoid it taking the inland route along the


river. Initially it felt entropic, that they simply weren't trying hard enough. Weaving


behind the chorale were irritating myths against a skyline policy, crashing and burning in


low lying areas. Staying in the squint of it. Dislocated and falling, we seem to agitate


around the notion of being swept away.


Time passed to stick with the immediate


questions expect impressions to reveal


a long track of arguments, circumscribed, flood continental mountains, to announce: this


is your style. In the moon stages there will be waves of the old things. Dreams,


intervals. The words lay waiting.



How could I have been persuaded when they were merely presenting masterpieces.


Solfatara: look up. Running with desert conclusions are the expanded intensities, even


in roles that feature how you felt. Out of my mind, unable to sleep, my eyelids shut for


the duration of local heavy falls in the shallow zone, itself not verifiable, not A or not A.




White noise is steady in the middle of the night.


Drowned river valleys float through the net




and land here. It was 4 and a half months before the 2 week wait for arrival, a loose


period. The clue it seemed: they were using sign language, booking a theatre we were


swamped and the moment passed. And why not: loves, lovers, losing. Does it throw up


anything but itself again? I insert myself, a tourist. You censor all those pleasures you


translate into your embrace. Dismasted and rudderless a huge vogue wave in the teeth


of the storm defines a heartbreak.


If certain previously


unimagined textual elements


are planted in a life's sentence


where matter and energy are fused, let them remind you of words you have used all your


life. Diffuse pollution becomes unrecognisable in natural waterways, stored in the


riverbeds. Run and don't get weary retracing your primitive scrawl. We know that Saturn


is the only evening planet easy to locate at dusk.


I held another sky and emptied out the future


Title: Not talking To You: Pages That Follow.








Copyright 2006 by Alison Georgeson.


Born in Seattle, Alison Georgeson spent time in London, and has lived in Perth, Australia for the past 10 years. She teaches creative writing at the University of Techonology in Perth.