Ben John Smith is an interesting poet. To steal how Steve Smart put it, “Ben John Smith is kinda the hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold of the Melbourne literary scene. He’s raw but not angry, sweetly filthy mouthed, with a healthy sense of the absurd tempered with gritty reality – or vice versa.”
Ben manages the publishing press Horror, Sleaze, Tresh (warning NSFW), and is author of Air a Boire. To describe that, I’d say, “let’s all get pissed and say silly things, but do it poetically and with well written imagery.” His writing and publishing are a gooey mess of wonderful poetry and well written obscenities.
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