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    Jack & Mollie (& Her)
    Jack & Mollie (& Her)
    Jack & Mollie (& Her)
    Ebook151 pages1 hour

    Jack & Mollie (& Her)

    By Jordie Albiston

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    About this ebook

    Jack & Mollie (& Her) is an exuberant, original and wildly inventive verse novel, which tells the story of 'J' through the eyes of her two dogs, Jack and Mollie. The dogs are adopted by J at a time when she is downcast, and their presence in her life proves vivifying and redemptive. In between the dogs' adventures, they provide observant commentary on her life.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherUniversity of Queensland Press
    Release dateApr 27, 2016
    ISBN9780702257889
    Jack & Mollie (& Her)

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      Book preview

      Jack & Mollie (& Her) - Jordie Albiston

      Jordie Albiston has published eight poetry collections, and a handbook on poetic form. Two of her collections (Botany Bay Document — retitled Dreaming Transportation — and The Hanging of Jean Lee) have been adapted for music-theatre: both enjoyed recent seasons at the Sydney Opera House. Jordie works within formal boundaries: traditional, experimental, or self-imposed. She seeks the musical cadence while endeavouring to exact a mathematical sense of existence. Often she utilises archival sources from which to wrest a kind of documentary cataloguing; other times she refers to an internal witness of experience. Her poetics are highly charged with vertigo, and doubt. Jordie’s work has won a number of awards, including the Mary Gilmore Award and the NSW Premier’s Prize. She lives in Melbourne.

      ALSO BY JORDIE ALBISTON

      POETRY

      Nervous Arcs

      Botany Bay Document

      The Hanging of Jean Lee

      My Secret Life (chapbook)

      The Fall

      Vertigo: a cantata

      the sonnet according to ‘m’

      the Book of Ethel

      kindness (artist’s book)

      XIII Poems

      EDITOR

      The Weekly Poem: 52 exercises in closed & open forms

      Prayers of a Secular World (with Kevin Brophy)

      Contents

      Author biography

      Also by Jordie Albiston

      Title Page

      Dedication

      Epigraph

      Jack & Mollie (& Her)

      Imprint Page

      for

      the girl

      &

      the boy

      Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?

      —Alexander Pope

      J had never been owned by a dog     did

      not become a dog ownee until the

      age of forty     enter Jack     his full name

      —what monosyllabic moniker can

      adequately sum up or represent

      such a complex & multi-layered being

      as a dog?—was Our Brother Jack (comma)

      Kerouac (full stop)     with name-dropping nods

      to the expat Aussie novelist &

      San Francisco Superbeat     however

      putting such frivolous pretensions &

      appellative tongue-twisters aside     Our

      Brother Jack (comma) Kerouac (full stop)

      quickly & thankfully became known quite

      simply as Jack     Jack is watching her now

      as she writes at a quarter to five in

      the morning     Mollie of course is nowhere

      to be seen     I am having the watch of

      Her     even though it is the blackness &

      we should be at sleep     Mollie is dream-dream

      but it has never been for Mollie to

      have the watch of Her     my eyes have the want

      to go backwards     but I keep them look by

      having the jerk of my head     I must do

      the stay     this is of the significant

      duty     at least she is not having the

      wet-face or doing the go-around all

      in the no-light     at least she is something

      of happy     & Boss Dog is not of the

      maximum size     Mollie did not arrive

      until Jack was four     two kennel moves &

      a leash of life changes later than where

      this story begins     thus you—dear Reader—

      must linger for her rambunctious rock-rol-

      licking & ready-for-anything yip!

      J was unwell for some time before her

      Edisonesque event     her marriage had

      ended     her children had somehow transformed

      from infants into teens     she was somewhat

      alone & she simply wanted something

      to love     many of these months remain mud

      in her mind but she still remembers this

      impulse     something to love     & then the light

      switched on & her heart was lit & she saw

      it up there     the Dog Star     she is not with

      the very well when she comes to pick me

      up     she holds me too squash     even with the

      worry-worry I do the sad & bold

      goodbye to mother     brother     gather my

      self for what next     I have the comprehend

      I will not be return     I have too the

      comprehend that I can love Her     that I

      will love Her     that love will have all of the

      everything good in the end     J had done

      her fieldwork     she was allergic to cats

      despite their apparent attraction to

      her     appearing out of nowhere at friends’

      houses     on streets     in parks     to slide around

      her legs     take up residence on her lap

      appraise her approvingly with other-

      worldly eyes     she could not warm to them     cats

      are regal independent pleasingly

      aloof     yes     but up close     first the sneezing

      second the itching & finally the

      complete inability to see     J

      did not dislike mogs     she just could not bear

      them     thus prominent on her Pooch Research

      List—perchance this particular matter

      applied to dogs—was Non-Allergenic

      Breed     to the AKC Information

      Site!     ‘single-coated’     ‘non-shedding’     ‘dander’

      a whole new lexicon     a whole canine

      planet     Maltese     Bichon Frise     Portuguese

      Water Dog     Peruvian Inca     o

      lordy!     to the sea for a think!     & there

      sitting on a rock on the sand     minding

      her business     dangling her toes     it came

      upon her     quick as a vision     slow as

      a dream     poking his nose right at her knee

      The Dog She Knew She Could Love     swallowing

      her customary compulsion she spoke

      to the bloke at the end of the leash &

      enquired as to the pup’s pedigree     Er

      Aussie Terrier     he gruffly replied

      while gazing out above her head at a

      pair of fluorescent bikinis     the hound

      was smallish     exuding autonomy

      companionship & everything nice as

      he calmly tolerated her gaze     he

      was beautiful in a rugged kind of

      way     no cutesy-wutesy namby-pamby

      here     coat not too short not too long     bluish-

      black shot through with tan     face strong & alert

      eyes dark & keen & intelligent—o

      those doggy adjectives!—ears upright &

      vigilant     J was smitten     there & then

      she knew this was the dog for her     knew she

      wanted the dog to be male     & for some

      whacky reason she knew that somewhere     a-

      waiting her     was a little man named ‘Jack’

      local paper     The Age     The Trading Post

      the supermarket noticeboard     J searched

      & searched     but to cut a long story short

      as they say (or in this case several

      longish months into one shortish sentence)

      she finally located a litter

      of four Australian Terrier pups

      (huzzah!) on the very far side of large

      Melbourne     her desire for a dog having

      steadily progressed to a yearning     &

      that yearning having become pure longing

      she made the trip     trusty Melway upside-

      down & unsteady on lap     requisite

      $400 at the ready     but

      when she arrived only two of the brood

      remained     at least they were boys     how can she

      describe?     a couple of fluffballs     black &

      pure gorgeousness     expressing distinctly

      differing temperaments     even at

      only eight weeks     one was amok     jumping

      & tumbling from couch to basket to floor

      to basket to couch—again again—the

      other just sitting     studying her face

      answering her eyes     difficult to put

      into words     she thinks she just stood there     can

      only recall the faraway phrase     The

      shy one he’s called Jack     Jack?     as though in a

      trance J gathered up ‘Jack’ & headed for

      the door     she expects the seller mentioned

      money     she expects she paid     he may have

      proffered a profusion of detailed &

      complex pup-raising hints     may have offered

      the recipe for his favourite self-

      saucing chocolate pudding     she has no

      idea     no memory at all of

      the man’s face/voice/name/suburb     nor the poor

      den-mum who was no doubt nearby     mourning

      her imminent loss     no nothing nothing

      nothing at all     except for the fact that

      she had found him     Little Man Jack!     at last

      for the road trip back there was no Melway

      on lap but a prepossessing pup called

      Jack     driving along—in retrospect quite

      unsafely let alone illegally

      (given Jack’s place just beneath the steering-

      wheel)—J was consumed with a seraphic

      sense of calm     she had found Her Dog!     again

      unsafely     illegally     she could not

      help but gaze down periodically

      at this compact collaboration of

      trust innocence serenity warmth     &

      baby Jack just

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