All copyright © 2003 remains with the authors.
All copyright © 2004 remains with the authors.




off the top
of the cliff
high cliff
he took his
last snapshot
to be
later by a
someone else
he sort
that it was
in focus
shutter not
film in?
but only

pmcmanus 8-46
in drizzle
in raynes park


I wanted to
to get there

to get into
the words turned
as if on a lathe

of heaven sent
stutter fall
the way they
took the breath

right out of me

he was older than when
that near shout of
for Christ's sake

got my attention
& got my attention
with words that turned
on a sense of aging

how to get there
where I might be
now   now I inhale

the same unstale
air he told us we
all must breathe


(for Robert Creeley)

Douglas Barbour
Wednesday 09:30 April 21 2003


A Reminder

In the park this morning
the autumn sun is kind,

dog and I are walking towards
two high school uniforms,

young lovers enjoying
their first kiss perhaps.

Walk further their way, just to
remind me what it's like.

Closer, I see them, heads together,
lighting up cigarettes.

After a kiss? instead of? ­
at this (fifty-year) distance

I sense a shared inhaling
of what's delicious and forbidden.

Not that way, dog, today we'll measure
the other length of the park.

8.45 am, Wednesday April 21, 2004

Max Richards
North Balwyn, Melbourne


democracy rutted in orthodoxy
all mirrors stains & bottles of empty

enormous drags (curbed faces)
malls of the valleys ablaze with trade

the comfort zone nature of
washed out things before the risk windows close...

fine art con

reality show contestants

but once
there was a muse star nestled in branches

and a fresh breeze blew in
to defeat the game

--Jerry Schwartz
West Irondequoit, New York, USA 14617
21 Avril 2004, 10:40 AM


_Mellow Fruitfulness_

The first rains come
and stop in minutes.

Our grey kitten looks up, perplexed.
From the loungeroom window

in a middle-class street in
a middle-class suburb

comes the blues singer:
'The sky is crying ...

look at the tears
roll down the street.'

I laugh at its sickly syrup sound,
and go back to marking papers.

Change of season. Damn it,
I need a new car and this battery

won't last the cold mornings.
Too much work means

not enough writing;
too little and I walk.

Time rewrites the ledger
with shadows and eraser -

leaves falling, cars stalling -
another unreasonable season.

I'm damned if I'll wear
my trousers rolled ...

Andrew Burke
Perth, WA 21/4/04


saguaro blooms


Palo Verde branches and thorns


Frank Parker
Spring, 21 April '04
Tucson, Arizona, USA


via Lars von Trier's THE FIVE OBSTRUCTIONS

Occupied.   Manually.
Be shot in Cuba.
Said it, "No set!"
The first one, then,
ruining it from the start.
Understand in a few days--
can't see how you can.
That was vicious of me.

old Leth--film
really on the ropes.
Give therapist the cards.
Ethics to the test.
Not describing something not there.


Of understanding in a few days:
but I don't think it followed the rules.
See where we can goad you and analyze it.
There's no doubt about it.
Ready to show me  /  ready to watch.
can give you
that feeling of a tortoise on its back--

just out of his head came this idea of a cartoon
of the kind we don't like.
Refuse to?  We must make something out of it!
Going to watch your little film.
Eat the damned caviar.
Narrate a script.

Barry Alpert / 4-7, 4-14, 4-21-04

Initially written one right after the other while viewing for the first time Lars von Trier's 2003 "documentary" on another Danish filmmaker, Jorgen Leth. I tried to restrict myself to a vocabulary pool of those words which exited Lars von Trier's mouth during the film. Each text was revised separately for posting to the Snapshot Project on 4-14 & 4-21. I'm amused to find the possibility "predicted" in a post to Poetryetc on 3-31.



Eliot world,
Hopper world,
wind across the pavement at 4 AM
some guy fights to sober up,
too-hot black coffee sipped
in the car he dares not try to drive.
Woman in bare feet, filmy dress,
standing, crying on the sidewalk
someone has just finished with her
flung her out.
Everyone grieves as they grieve:
a cast-off man walks the pavement,
disprized where he placed his heart,
flung aside, Turgenev's superfluous man love-lost.

Who sees this: me, remembering
something, but hearing it first.
Ernie Kovacs, long-ago's doomed television master,
the clown in an unfunny truth-moment,
a street scene, Elmer Rice to the opening bars
of Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra
tragedy in Prime Time,
sadness charred from blood to black.

Places at last to leave.

Kenneth Wolman



    the last snapshot tho
tamarraw on a
      soon to be back
again yesterday
   a mad mad
      mad hunt
for decent airfare
   finally settling
      on a via frankfurt
ticket incredibly cheap
   which late tomorrow
      will take me
into moscow
      getting a visa
in 24 hours
   an experience
      worthy of story
today the end
    of winter
      and tamarraw
first day of

árni ibsen
5:15 pm april 21 2004
hafnarfjördur iceland



I open the lounge curtains
to find a blotch on the window
it has arrived in the night.
Later in the morning
it is still there.
I use a discarded note to the milkman
to lever away the tiny snail
depositing it in the bobbing hydrangea.

As I fill the kettle
my eyes meet those
of the grey squirrel
on the little fence
a yard beyond the kitchen window.
It looks away and scurries quickly
down my neighbour's garden path.

In the back garden beyond ours
a fat tabby prowls
as a wood pigeon settles on the roof.

After the rain
I watch a blackbird
digging worms
out of the recently mown lawn.
It eyes me too
but is in no hurry
to wander under the willow tree
and into the hedge bottom.

In the bathroom today
the spider
is nowhere to be seen.

Gerald England
Hyde, UK, Wednesday 21st April 2004.


night rain
brings this
green day

with mist
wet scents

the lawn

pear blossoms

the mountain

cling to spring
darkness comes

white blooms

in this
quiet night
garden oh

how i miss you

Sharon Brogan


The oak that has been dead wood all winter
a shadow slicked with wet snow
has put out its life
into green fire.

Liz Kirby 21st April 2004 Heaton Moor Farm, UK.


after cloudy days
a sunny setting
technical problems engulf hours
a bunch of tulips & perfumed flowers
in the center of the table
an artists' meeting
when on the way back
_Cloud Cooling Sun on Skin_
by Chris Murray
hit me like a blow

chaotic energies
keep strung as violin chords
abrupt oscillations
grounding is needed

Anny Ballardini - 11.27 pm - Bozen - South Tyrol


So Close

A tight ball
small fists
I gather you
from the floor
in my arms
I have no answers
I wait to see your eyes
recognize me
pray, they do...
I hold you close,
your small body,
so close
It's a small death
for you and I
we will get beyond this
love will be stronger
because of this

Deborah Russell, 04-21-04
Baltimore, Maryland 11:00pm

(My granddaughter, another seizure)


dyeing black cherry
her roots "to look magazine
luscious again"
the child also speckling
the mirror
& remarking

as her growing anima
clouds fur
partially the big blue hole above
physics & no

& behind blank pane
"mama i am just...

so bored"-- as history groomed in textbooks beyond here

& mirror wise
o i think her one
head not padded nearly
enough as patting thin
though she will be groomed

so I say
dear ever so "bored"
to be so

no is
but a cracked
kiosk the handbill letterings
amelt in rain
& hand
of want

careful to offer one eye
to the peeling
balcony rusting
its lean panther
almost completely off

plumb the one note late
April air
conditioning another Texas

chris murray DFW TX 22 April 04


Poetryetc is a listserv relating to poetry and poetics which provides a forum for poets to debate their critical and creative work. The list has over the years run a number of projects for its members, of which Snapshots has been the most enduring.

Every Wednesday, Poetryetc members were invited to post short poems on any subject or in any form they chose. The idea was to make a poetic collage of instamatic “snaps” of that day that reflected the international membership of the list. The project has generated an astounding number of poems.

The first two runs, of six weeks each, and the first ten weeks of the third run, are archived at Wild Honey Press under Poetryetc Project. The rest - amounting in all to a run of a year - are archived here.

Poetryetc, like its affiliate Salt Publishing (, was founded by Australian poet John Kinsella. Salt is managed by Christopher Hamilton-Emery (, while Poetryetc is owned by Alison Croggon ( Poetryetc is now archived at and anyone interested can join from that url.

To contact the listowner: Alison Croggon

These pages are designed, maintained, and hosted by Rebecca Seiferle, the Editor of The Drunken Boat. To email.