No Wave (part 1)

Vision Australia ID 0:02

This is a Vision Australia Radio podcast. (MUSIC)

Kate Cooper 0:04

On Vision Australia Radio, welcome to our conversations with emerging and experienced, creative voices in our community, on air now and also available on Vision Australia Radio Podcasts. I'm Kate Cooper - and this week, we're bringing you selections from the April 2025 No Wave readings at the Wheatsheaf Hotel in Thebarton in the inner suburbs of Adelaide in South Australia. 

Regular listeners to the program and our podcasts will recognise the No Wave poetry series. We've brought you a number of selections of readings from there, both in 2023 and 2024 - so we were delighted to join the No Wave collective for the first edition for 2025 - curated by Olivia de Zilva and featuring readings by Olivia and also Alex Cothren, both of whom have books coming out in 2025with Adelaide's newest publishing house, Pink Shorts. We'll also hear readings by Arantza Garcia, Jelena Dinic and Steve Brock, who have all been featured in previous episodes of our Emerging Writers program. To begin the readings, here is Arantza Garcia.

Arantza Garcia 1:44

I was asked to do a poem about a snake for the Year of the Snake. So this is, yeah, my poem. This is An Ode for the Ouroboros Snake... 

An ode for the Ouroboros Snake - who eats his own tail then forgets when he reaches behind himself. It's because he is desperate, stomach hungry for renewal. He consumes himself in an act of morbid rebirth. He begs to live better next time, to live more and without shame, he begs to touch sea glass and taste mint leaves and to live without feeling like he then must die, and when his cheeks fill with tar blood and he gags on his own spine, he wakes up to do it all over again. 

What Ouroboros Snake doesn't understand is that it's hard to live with death on your tongue. It's hard to kiss with your mouth full of scales. It's hard to swallow with your throat full of hunger. And Ouroboros has forgotten what it feels like to crave something new. Your father comes home after another late night, eyes desperate, his mouth like his own father's, and you can see his skeleton through his skin from working until he hits bone, like his fingerprints are made of sheer or origazza. 

You see, Ouroboros doesn't understand how to stop, how to dislodge his jaw from his own tail. Ouroboros is a brown boy that never learnt how to love without sacrificing his own body, never learnt to live without scarring his own hands. Never learnt the difference between desperation and dreaming, because immigrants only ever wish for survival. Ouroboros chokes to death again, but still wakes up to brush his teeth. 

And you watch as your father takes off his coat, sends you a smile made of sea glass, and wishes you good night. But before he reaches his bedroom, you stop him. You ask him, does he know that it's the Year of the Snake - of auspiciousness and success and transformation, the year when Ouroboros has the chance to move forward instead of around - for some reason, you are desperate for him to know this. And your father looks at you and he laughs. And you don't mind, because for once, he sounds like he's craving something new.  

(APPLAUSE) Thank you.

Kate Cooper 4:53

That was Arantza Garcia, and to listen to more of Arantza's poetry and also our conversations with her about her work, go to Vision Australia Radio podcasts, Emerging Writers, for May 2024 and April 2023. 

We mentioned in the introduction that two of the readers at the April No Wave will have works published this year by Pink Shorts Press. The team behind Pink Shorts Press, Margot Lloyd and Emily Hart, spoke with the No Wave audience about their work in publishing what their website describes as... fantastically readable, socially conscious and slightly offbeat books. As well as publishing, Margot and Emily run workshops to help anyone get better at using words. They describe themselves as loudly independent and proudly South Australian, based on Kaurna yerta. Here are Margot Lloyd and Emily Hart talking about Adelaide's newest publishing company, Pink Shorts Press.

Margot Lloyd 5:00

Thank you for the welcome. We'd also like to acknowledge that we're meeting on Kaurna land tonight, and it's wonderful to see so many people here. Em and I are Pink Shorts Press. We're a brand new... I think we might be the newest South Australian publishing company - I'm not 100% sure, please correct me if I'm wrong. We launched last month, and we are very, very excited to be publishing two of your speakers tonight. We've got the amazing Olivia de Zilva and Alex Cothren. 

Pink Shorts Press is born out of a desire to publish South Australian voices, South Australian stories. Em and I have quite a lot of experience in the publishing company. We both had to move to the eastern states in order to work in publishing, but we wanted to bring all of that knowledge back home. And we're so glad that we have everyone's been incredibly welcoming, and there's so much talent here. We're excited to publish it all. I'm going to hand you over to Em.

Emily Hart 6:08

I'm going to talk about the first book that we signed up, or the first new book that we signed up. Our first book that we released this month is a new edition of a Barbara Hanrahan classic from 1974... but when we were first thinking of people we would like to publish, this person was quite high up on our list. We had read her work in The Guardian, in Mascara, we had seen her on a whole bunch of listings for awards and fellowships. 

And when we reached out to Olivia de Zilva, she came back to us with not one, but maybe two and a half manuscripts... that were all incredible. And this year, she is not just publishing with us with her debut auto fiction Plastic Budgie coming out in August, but another one of those manuscripts, Eggshell is also coming out as a YA novella through the first Spineless Wonders novella prize. So she has an incredible and very busy year ahead, and we're very excited to be part of that.

Margot Lloyd 8:03

So Olivia will be reading tonight, and also Alex Cothren is the second August debut we've got coming from Pink Shorts press. Alex Cothren sent a submission through to Pink Shorts press on the day I gave birth. (LAUGHTER) I don't know what that means. (LAUGHTER) I mean, except that I did have a lot of hormones running around my body when I read your manuscript for the first time, Alex. 

Alex writes satire that bites - dystopian, you know, world-building that will make you stop Doom scrolling and pay attention. I think his work is incredibly relevant today. In fact, I feel like every passing day it becomes more and more relevant. He's from America. He's been living in Australia for quite a long time. He writes about both places... incisively, but also with a lot of heart. And that's what really kind of stood out to me about Alex's writing when we signed it up. I'm so excited about his short story collection coming out in August, and I think there's going to be a lot of talk about it when it arrives, because there's a lot in there that... has a lot to say about what's going on in the world at the moment. So I'm looking forward to you guys hearing from Alex later on. 

But... mainly we're here to tell you that we are open for submissions. We want to hear from all of you, we're really excited to be publishing South Australian writers, and we're hoping that there's a lot more coming from specifically the people in this room. We know that South Australia is a really supportive place to be a writer, and having come from Melbourne and Brisbane, which are wonderful in their own way, being really blown away by the support that we've seen here, and the way that writers in South Australia support each other is just incredible. So more of that, please. And that's enough from us. Let's go to the writers.

Kate Cooper 9:55

We just heard from Margot Lloyd and Emily Hart, the founders of Pink Shorts Press. (MUSIC) on Vision Australia Radio, you're listening to our conversation program, Emerging Writers - this week featuring readers from the April 2025 No Wave session at the Wheatsheaf. Next, we'll hear a very funny short story by Alex Cothren - whose work, as we heard, will be published by Pink Shorts Press in August 2025.

Alex Cothren 10:37

Hello, hello. I was going to read an excerpt for my short story collection coming out the Pink Shorts Press, but... in honour of Senator Cory Booker, who today broke the record for the longest speech in US history, I'm just gonna talk for about 25 hours. My general thoughts about democracy. It's not fucked, because as long as people are coming out to poetry readings on a mid-week night, I think we have a chance to [?] Okay, anyway, so I will read a short story for my collection. This is a bit of an experiment to see if this can actually be read out live. So I need you to visualise, particularly young people in the room, a Reddit thread or a cora.com type thing, if you're doing multiple voices. We'll see how this goes. Okay, it's called Where's a Good Place for an Adult to Hide? ... 

Ask it dot commit.com... Tina J: Where is a good place for an adult to hide during hide and seek? I've tried behind doors, under bed, etc, but my kids keep finding me, I'm getting bored. Frank H: I find that the best spot to those in plain sight, but slightly hidden - under a pile of laundry on the couch worked well for me in the past. Samson B: Under a table with a long table cloth might work depending on how dumb your kids are, well.. mine never find me. Andy R: Closet under couch, bushes if outside. Troy H: kids tend to only look at head-height and lower, so anything higher will usually stump them. Tree branches or on top of closets are good spots. 

Layne W: Yes, this is great advice. High kitchen cabinets are another really good hiding spot. I discovered that if I climbed up on our kitchen cabinets and rolled deep back against the wall, it's impossible to see me from the ground. I found this spot a few months ago, and I'm still hiding here now. (LAUGHTER) Troy H: LOL, at first I read that as if you had literally been hiding in that spot for months without moving. Hahaha. Layne W: Yes, this is correct. (LAUGHTER) Janice A: The shower is a good one, but don't turn it on while you're in there. Haha. Janice A: Hang on, what? 

Layne W: I climbed up here on the 29th of January, roughly 11 weeks ago. I was playing hide and seek with my seven year old, and found this amazing spot, and just thought I'd stay hidden as long as I could. At night, I sneak down for food and/or water. Otherwise, I haven't moved. It's a really good hiding spot. Andy R: Car trunk, fireplace. Samson B: Bro, are you saying your family doesn't know you've been up there all this time? Do they not care you're missing or something? Layne W: Of course they care. They have called police, etc. Police even visited the house and sat at kitchen table and didn't see me. It's a really good hiding spot! (LAUGHTER) If you have high and deep kitchen cabinets, I recommend trying to hide up there. 

Troy H: If you don't mind me asking, What the heck do you do all day? Layne W: I don't do anything. Hiding this well takes up every essence of my being. Honestly, I have never been so pure and so focused in all my life. Stresses, worries, responsibilities, fears - all gone. I definitely recommend climbing up in your kitchen cabinets if you have really high and deep ones. Samson B: Bro, this is the most batshit thing I've ever heard. Walter D: Summer, 1986. My brothers and I played hide and seek every day, and I was always the first to be found. I can't tell you how much this annoyed me. Then on one fateful afternoon, I discovered I could climb on top of the really high, indeed kitchen cabinets and roll against the wall. I stayed there for 38 years. (LAUGHTER) They demolished the house last June to make way for an overpass. No way my brothers would have found me otherwise, not a chance. (LAUGHTER) 

Samson B: Never mind. Lane W, 38 years, nice! Andy R: Attic? Roof, if you have a roof, that could be a good spot. Janice A: Roughly how deep/high would you say the cabinets need to be? Ramona S: Speaking from personal experience, probably about three to four foot, minimum, from the wall. Height wise, I think minimum seven foot. Hope that helps, sweetie, xx. Layne W: Nice, you there right now? Ramona S: Coming up 12 years in July. (LAUGHTER) Layne W: Nice. It's a really good hiding spot. (LAUGHTER) 

Walter D: Whatever you do, do not come down. I have so many worries and stresses now. Like my ass-hat brother, for example. I'm staying at his house, and he got a crowbar and smashed up all behind deep kitchen and cabinets so I can't hide up there anymore. He's so pissed he didn't find me until they knocked down my house to make way for an overpass. He never would have found me otherwise, no chance. Troy H: I'm sorry to pry, but don't you feel kind of guilty about the loved ones you've left behind? I mean, they must be sick with worry and grief. Don't mean to make you feel bad here. Just genuinely curious. 

Ramona S: Ah, geez, don't be an ass hat, sweetie. Walter D: Total freaking ass-hat, this guy. Layne W: Nice try, ass-hat, but hiding this well takes every essence of my being. Crying children, crying, everyday wife - those are down there worry/ stresses. They can't touch me up here, I am pure. (LAUGHTER) Andy R: What about under the rug, if you have a rug, or under the floorboards? Janice A: I do have to admit that leaving some of my stresses behind sounds nice. I have five kids and a wife who can't breathe unless I scoop mucus out of her throat with a soup spoon every hour. Sad face. 

Ramona S: Oh, geez, sorry you're having a rough time, sweetie. Sending lots of love your way, XX. You thinking about hiding for a while? Layne W: That sucks, you should definitely hide for a few years at least. Janice A: Thanks for your support, everyone. My kids are asking to play hide and seek, so... I'm gonna climb on top of the kitchen cabinets and give it my best. Wish me luck. Walter D: Attagirl. Layne W: Nice. It's a really good hiding spot. (LAUGHTER) Andy R: Sorry, but that's all the spots I can think of right now. Andy R: In the cat litter box? 

Samson B: Hang on just a second. If hiding takes every essence of your being, how the hell you posting on this forum? Ramona S: Ha, ha, well, we still have our phone, sweetie. Be awful boring if you're 24/7 without TikTok. XX. Layne W: Yeah, fair question, bud. Between the hiding with every essence of my being, I occasionally take a little Me Time - to check out the forums, keep up with the news, etc. I'm still even in my fantasy football league. Freaks my buddies out. Haha. Troy H: Oh, nice, I love fantasy football. Who you drafting number one? Layne W: Shut up, ass-hat. Andy R: If you had a big painting of yourself on the wall, you could stand in front of the picture and no one would see you. That could be a good spot. 

Janice A: Oh, my God, I think it's actually working. My kids have been running in and out of the kitchen for the last few hours, and they haven't spotted me. They're all freaking out and calling my name and crying, and my wife is choking, and I feel nothing. I am so pure. Layne W: Nice. Do you play fantasy sports? Walter D: Well, that's terrific news little lady. Just hoping they don't knock your house down to make way for an overpass. That's the only way my brothers found me. 

Samson V: Man, maybe I'm looking at this all wrong. Bit of phone time away from kiddos and wifey sounds pretty good. Might have to go ahead and build me some real deep-ass cabinets. Janice A: Haha, you totally should. Seriously, it's like you're floating up way high in a thick bubble that stresses and worries and responsibilities and fear cannot penetrate, and you appear as a beam of light from heaven and have lots of time to watch goat videos, which I think are really cute. Troy H: Wow, sure sounds like you found yourself a peaceful spot. Enjoy your chillax time. Janice A: Go plug your craphole with a coconut, ass-hat. 

Andy R: I don't have any more spots. What about... cement box with no holes, maybe? Underground, if you have grounds? [?] big coffee table books, covered in honey and bees, baked into naan loaf? Are these good spots? Help, please. I need good spots. My wife is always coughing and needing me to do spoon trick all the time is so stressful. Layne W: How about,you tried climbing up on your kitchen cabinets yet? Andy R: My wife broke them with a crowbar. Layne W: Dang, it's a really good spot. 

Sally W: Layne? Layne, is that you? Layne W: Oh shit. Sally W: Are you freaking kidding me? Where the hell are you? I've been crying every day. Layne W: Sweetheart, I'm dead. (LAUGHTER) I am lost somewhere you will never find me. My body long ago decomposed into the soil and borne forth in the fruit of the trees. I am now but an echo of the song in your heart. Troy H: Look on top of your kitchen cabinets. He rolled up deep against the wall. Sally W: Oh, you craphole son of an ass-hat. (LAUGHTER) Walter D: Is she getting the crowbar? Layne W: Yep. (LAUGHTER) 

Troy H: I'm really sorry, man, I just hated to think of a loved one hurting like that. My partner Frank left a note once saying he'd been captured by terrorists, but 12 years later, I found him under a pile of laundry on the couch. (LAUGHTER) Which still stings. Layne W: No, all good bud, don't even stress about it. Was about time to stretch my muscles and refresh with the fam anyways. Although... I wouldn't mind hearing more about this laundry idea - sounds like a really good hiding spot! 

Thank you. (APPLAUSE)

Kate Cooper 20:22

We just heard from Alex Cothren - and a reminder that Alex's work will be published by Pink Shorts Press in August 2025. Next, we'll hear a poem from Olivia de Zilva, the writer who curated the April No Wave readings, and as we heard from Margot Lloyd and Emily Hart from Pink Shorts Press, Olivia's book will also be out in August 2025. Here's Olivia de Zilva.

Olivia de Zilva 20:53

This is one about how could no reports by house. So it's called Forestville Terraces - which is developing near our house at the moment... 

There is a clump of dirt overlooking Anzac Highway. Disappears in your palm like cocoa powder or a dream. They estimate the construction will be complete in the Year of the Great Stallion - galloping across the sky, that the mound of earth will breed towers of steel teeth, red brick terraces and sensible fencing, moulded in tradition or steeped in change, keep both. That's the style. Mid-century modern, with floating islands and a tigercloth bath gushing honey and milk. The ghosts of the terraces threaten the sterile bread factory, casting a blank shadow on the ivy which clings on to frail hope. 

Perhaps in a hoof beat or a global tragedy, where the stock market is no longer hungry, our one of more will eventuate in a three bedroom box paved in gold, a jug of yellow nectar goes tepid on the grand alabaster fashioned into an elbow. The sun peaks from the soft breath of Venetian blinds that sprinkle daylight inside. And if we're dreaming in a surreal scape of melting clocks or water, there would be so much joy painted in the clementine sweet glow.

Our friends bring a platter through the threshold, their warm bare feet brushing in ancient pine, swept by stalks of the finest wheat. A diced apple hides its shame on a stone green plate, languishing in a sweet agony, the carpet unfurls as a coy lover, shy with glee, expensive, unattainable. We could unpack a bookshelf where the last day of spring in Oslo would live after being contained in a brass frame. The long, claustrophobic days by the train, a flute of lemon sun drunk as an aperitif on the probable balcony where a monarch butterfly lays on the blooming dahlias sighing scarlet passion. 

From here, screams of traffic on Anzac Highway are banished as Cohen sings about the Chelsea Hotel in perfect clarity. The ugly factory expels a huff of sourdough into the gluttonous stomach of the terraces, who bite down into the thin Earth with intention to draw blood. It's only a dream - something fanciful for the busy mind to be this optimistic about an empty lot unfurled into sanctuary of silk sponge sheets, a delicate half, limply burning embers of Saturdays - perfumed in limp eucalypt and strolls to the corner store cafe named after innocent and decay. 

It wouldn't hurt to download the pamphlet to see how we would look alongside the 3D renders of beautiful people and welcome mats. What do dreams cost anyway? Along the canal, dying of thirst, gum nuts weep from ancient oaks and we pretend to be rich, or at least middle class, the terraces are still fenced off, naked and grand, like a discarded empire turned to dust. (APPLAUSE)

Kate Cooper 24:25

That was Olivia de Zilva - and we'll hear more of Olivia's poetry readings in next week's program, along with readings by Jelena Dinic and Steve Brock. You've been listening to Emerging Writers - this week and next, coming to you from the No Wave readings held at the Wheatsheaf Hotel in Thebarton. This program is produced in our Adelaide studios and can be heard at the same time each week here on Vision Australia radio, VA Radio. On digital, online at varadio.org, and also on Vision Australia Radio Podcasts, where you can catch up on earlier episodes. (MUSIC)

Vision Australia ID 25:23

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