When I read Rose Hunter’s poetry I am immersed in the flow of her music, as if the conscious world is an intensely coloured envelope of experience: wonder mixed with something dark and unpredictable. Anyone who can say ‘a cantaloupe is the fruit equivalent of a lobster’ has my full attention.
Rose Hunter’s poems decentre the speaking subject, shifting position from the absurd to the oneiric, from the colourful streets of Mexico to Brisbane. Part-diary, part-confession, glass is a delicate and resilient collection, a hybrid language answering poetry’s questions of memory and desire.
Publication date: November 2017
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