‘Jazz Money’s second book is not so much a collection of poetry as a conjuration, a sentient document of Freshwater metaphysics. Do not mistake this language for English, nor this as a work of Australian literature: it is Wiradjuri literature, the source-code of Country pulsing through every riparian beat and curve. It is a Wiradjuri blade that cuts these swift grooves into the coloniser’s tongue, a Wiradjuri weaver who dextrously fashions this vessel for your weariness, Wiradjuri eros that kindles this cleansing smoke, Wiradjuri love that animates every syllable and sings your queer Blak bones into their sovereign vibration. Read this work aloud in one long exhalation: may this current carry you where you need to go.’
SJ Norman