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The Little Red Door & Winston Thursday night saw the launch of Alogopoiesis, the fascinating new collection from Amelia Walker published by Gazebo Books.

Amelia has been writing and performing poetry since her early teens, had seven books published, including four collections of poems, and teaches creative writing at UniSA. And this launch was a little different, in that other local poets read from Amelia’s book who shared their connection with Amelia, their chosen poem(s) and responded with one of their own.

First up was Mike Ladd who read the first poem in the collection ‘Kite’, in which the speaker studies a tree-trapped one ‘arcing, diving’, considers how it arrived there by ‘romancing cyclones’, juxtaposing this child’s toy with ‘the opposite of violence, shining like a knife.’ Mike then read a poem about his mother who, as a girl, was literally caught up in a dust storm, continuing the theme of turbulence.

Kerryn Tredrea was up next with ‘You’re missing’, where the absence of another creates ‘holes’ to be sewn up, re-filled, as if darning a beloved garment to make it last longer, with the action of missing a way for the speaker to keep the loved one present, near. Kerryn responded with a poem about internet dating, another way of seeking what may often seem an elusive someone.

Heather Taylor Johnson followed by reading three versions of ‘Taking time’ that revolves around an ailing father isolating during the pandemic to stay safe, the daughter understanding and yet ‘it stung’, realising the risks associated with contact, ‘But still. But still.’ Heather then shared a three-part poem about menopause, mirroring the refracted self in a multitude of ways.

Sarah Pearce read two different versions of ‘Island’ next, in which a woman is the island upon which ‘sailors wreck themselves’, and how she is ‘cultivated’ and ‘shaped’ by another woman who, after everything, prefers the speaker ‘wild’, her original self. Sarah responded with a poem called ‘Ophelia’, unspooling the tragedy that culminates in the individual being ‘mossed in fear’.

Last up was Bronwyn Lovell who shared two versions of ‘Through the cracks’ where a relationship is examined and left wanting, the ruin of the furnishings surrounding them indicative of where it’s at, as the speaker relates to their ‘chipped’ plates, feeling ‘faded, missing, cracked’. Bronywn finished the readings with a poem about her ex-boyfriend, echoing the previous disconnect.

Gazebo Books offer ‘books for curious minds’ and indeed it is a curious book, with an extraordinary structure throughout and a title that captures the contents perfectly – ‘alogia’ meaning an inability to speak fluently and ‘poiesis’ making – and so these poems speak of absence, the blank space of a page where the challenges of being exist. The interwoven intricacies of several versions of the same poem render it kaleidoscopic, the colours and cadence and circularity so evocative of life, that a reader’s compelled to explore it.