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Author: David Prater

David Prater is an Australian-born writer, editor and parent. His interests include mince pies, ice hockey and Joy Division. View his full biography.

  • LOL: Issue 1 and the Internet Post-Avant

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    3 min read

    Well, that was interesting!

    7

  • Lee Ranaldo: Hello from the American Desert

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    11 min read

    How can a book review capture a live concert experience?

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  • Murmur (1983)

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    5 min read

    A fictional response to REM’s debut LP album.

    1

  • The Material Poem

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    2 min read

    The Material Poem is a new e-anthology edited by James Stuart and published by non-generic productions. The blurb on the site says: The Material Poem features the work of some 28 Australian poets, artists and critics, all of whom are engaged with poetry, and more broadly language, as a material form. This body of work…

    0

  • More sun than clouds; sprinkles early

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    1 min read

    said let’s buy tulips because you were homesick twenty-four hour florist late-night emergency the tulips sat inside a cool store freezer still wet & trembling fragile as a whispered wish (we said let’s buy some tulips today there’s more sun than cloud their powers are quite expensive but what does money matter (when there’s more…

    3

  • Doppelgangers

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    1 min read

    I’ve gone through most of my life thinking my name is fairly weird—not my first name, my surname, der—and that the chances of anyone else having it are slim. That was until I found out that one half of legendary soul duo Sam and Dave was also named David Prater (he died in 1998) and…

    2

  • Wimbled[t]on

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    3 min read

    The blisters on my feet have begun to weep. My soles, oh my soles, they’re red and inflamed like my sunburnt knees. The zinc cream tastes like acid on my lips. I can’t swallow, and my elbow’s sick of tennis. History can be read in a forehand, a groundstroke. The only mystery is the spin…

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  • Two Parties

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    4 min read

    Useless, absolutely useless. I thought I could trust you. I thought we were on one wavelength. You said “Wear something glitzy, it’s a Studio 64 party.” Well, thanks. Thanks for pushing my excitement levels so high I had to inhale Ventolin. Thanks for prompting me to spend the next four hours in other peoples’ wardrobes,…

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  • Karin Revisited

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    5 min read

    This poem was originally written and performed for the Red Room Company’s Poetry Picture Show project in 2006.

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  • Dream Runner

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    3 min read

    Lost in the city of poets, I tried running down random streets in the hope of finding you. That’s the thing about dreams: just when you’re trying to use your mobile to call someone, you find it’s suddenly been equipped with internet access, and you’ve been registered for some lo-fi mobile phone film festival, and…

    2

  • The Heat-Ray

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    5 min read

    No one would have believed in the middle of an already bleak Antipodean winter that cylinders of heat would one day be passed out to individuals as a last refuge against atomic chill. Silver cannisters cold to the touch but containing propellants and gases that, upon contact with the eerie airs, would spontaneously ignite, providing…

    1

  • U.S.S.R. (January-June 2006)

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    1 min read

    William Gibson, Pattern Recognition Mark Davis, Gangland Dorothy Porter, What A Piece Of Work Anna Funder, Stasiland Mary Ellen Jordan, Balanda: My Year In Arnhem Land Peter Carey, Wrong About Japan Brett Dionysius, Universal Andalusia Luke Beesley, Lemon Shark Flannery O’Connor, Wise Blood Nicholson Baker, Checkpoint Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog In…

    1

  • Lose You

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    2 min read

    Then you came running like a season in reverse. Flowers in your mouth. Standing on a rock. Inside a waterfall. There was a script but we were method-acting. Like Pete Doherty and Carl Barat at their last gig. High on contradictions. Waiting for the bus to leave. Throwing mid-air punches. Stored in a freezer and…

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  • Black Belt

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    2 min read

    It does not have the strength to hold me. Jogging on pavements in the winter dark. Learning how to fall into judo. I never did make it past white. It does not have the strength to hold me. The threat of black against my neck. Shoe polish. The slightly-quivering chair. Stillness and silver belts. The…

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  • Skylines

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    5 min read

    If you’re already feeling like reading this is going to make you late for work, you’d better read it anyway. Or run for that train. The title might give you a hint of what it’s about but they’re usually deceptive. From inside this East Brunswick net-cafe, for example, the only skyline I can see is…

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