A few years back I sent out a call for an anthology of “Dark” poems–meaning poems written in the spirit of Melville in Pierre, or Lautreamont. The project died from a dearth of good material. We did, however, hear from some very interesting writers, and we hope to work off our karmic debt by printing some of their work on this blog site.

First up is S.K. Kelen, an Australian poet of some accomplishment. The following poem is from Atomic Ballet, published by Hale & Iremonger’s Contemporary Australian Poets series.

Koki Market

Koki market on the beach
next to the village on stilts
over the water. Where you can
buy fruit and vegetables at native prices.
Red stains of betel nut spat
everywhere on the ground. Pedlars sit
behind their goods all laid out
on small grass mats. Gossiping
and arguing in Pidjin and Motu.
Fifty Papuan soldiers march by
to the joy and pride of a group of
laughing girls. Naked children
play while a red-brown man with no legs,
held up by crutches, looks sadly over a
universe of waves to heaven. A youth with
Afro hair and a shirt with a picture of Che
screams revolution at the seagulls
but the sounds of living drown him.

I buy a coconut from a woman
whose tattooed head’s a thousand years old.
Smells of cooking and tobacco and
rotting fruit pervade the air.
Pure sky touches the horizon of
the jade desert.

Old women wade
into the sea, cast their
fishing lines. Out on the reef
the wing of a Japanese transport plane
stands like a broken soldier.