The bard gives us advance notice of his upcoming medieval K-pop releases
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Labelling An Immigrant
by JENNY MITCHELL
GORDON PARSONS steps warily through the pessimistic world view of an influential US conservative
HENRY BELL takes issue with the assertion that basic income is a remedy for poverty when it doesn’t address the inbuilt inequality of capitalism
RON JACOBS welcomes an investigation of the murders of US leftist activists that tells the story of a solidarity movement in Chile
RITA DI SANTO surveys the smorgasbord of films on offer at this year’s festival
Reviews of A New Kind Of Wilderness, The Marching Band, Good One and Magic Farm by MARIA DUARTE, ANDY HEDGECOCK and MICHAL BONCZA
SCOTT ALSWORTH foresees the coming of the smaller, leaner, and class conscious indie studio, with art as its guiding star
I feel them heavier some days, the wide seams
of my clothes no longer swaying when I walk,
as if the thread takes on the weight of every curse
since I crawled from a boat, sopping wet, weighed
down by nights spent under stars as water crashed.
Curse words meant to block my path rear up to grab
me by the scruff, labelling An Immigrant. Men stop
to hack the words, aiming at my hem to see me stumble
when I walk. Ever since my country’s lost, I’m deep
in mourning clothes, family buried in the soil.
Saliva seeps through cloth even though I scrub —
hands raw — would throw the clothes away, but money
is too scarce. It is my fault for running from the bombs
that destroyed the fabric of my home, all I had
worn on my back, clothes failing to protect.
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