Here they come the clever ladies
in their detachable Peter Pan collars
their fringes their sober mein
hiding such anger such
subtle vices dizzying torments
how do they manage to keep it intact
that demeanour? Is it something they've learned?
Not from George rough-hewn or Emily
choking her mastiff down on the moors.
No it's Jane with her simpering smile
her malice her maidenly virtues
rustling through the 20th Century seminars
sitting on platforms discussing
manner and style how to instruct
& parry impertinent questions.
To The Literary Ladies
About the poet
Dorothy Hewett
Dorothy Coade Hewett (21 May 1923 – 25 August 2002) was an Australian feminist poet, novelist and playwright. She was also a member of the Communist Party of Australia, though she clashed on many occasions with the party's leadership. Hewett was born in Perth…
View profile & all 7 Poems / StoriesMore from Dorothy Hewett
Unanswered Love Letter
It rained in Sydney all next day,And all I could hear was the sound of the baby crying
The Dark Fires
The dark fires shall burn in many rooms;will they sometimes miss me with my tangled hair
My Party Is The Party Of Aragon
I am not alone ... in the beating of my heartAre the songs of Lumumba, the poems of Pablo Neruda.
Digging It In
My father's spadehas the hollow sound of regret
Once I Rode With Clancy
Once I rode with Clancy through the wet hills of Wickepin,By Kunjin and Corrigin with moonlight on the roofs,
