Poetry

Waialua

Tide coming in, sun coming out. Rotten coconut skull cracked open on the clay earth. Scarf off jacket off, thin layers of fabric revealing inky skin. Snake tattoo looks like he’s swimming through yesterday’s shells.

3 April 2019
Old Bath

This is a Cornetto moment,
w/ all the flicked pip mandarins,
& pregnant bellies being rubbed,
under ice-cream umbrellas

Milk Caps

The bottom was still scarred with rust, I tried to pick it off with my finger-nails like the skin
Left over from a
Popped pimple

Slug.

They do not see me and I am twelve when I creep into the top corner of the kitchen. I watch them pour tea and drop spoons for years and now I am giggling.

Good Whore // Bad Whore

I have stroked their egos, dressed up for them, painted my face for them (((FOR FREE))) for far too long. Only now, in this employment, am I rewarded for my efforts. Only now am I compensated for the endless, thankless task of Making Men Feel Good.
My only question is: where’s my goddamn backpay?

Paint to Poetry: Orange Glow

Sarah plays on the association of colours and words to write her poetry column for Farrago, using Taubman’s paint samples from Bunnings.

make way

will there be time to custom-make our age,
brand it with our initials and tie them
tight around our necks?

5 March 2019
I’m a Poorly-Rated Sitcom Doctor and I Still Love You

In another life I am
a malpracticing physician
Rotten under pressure, my training was for naught
It’s a comedy! People die!

You are Safe Here

You smell the blooming of blossoms, gold streaks sparking off
white petals; it is the smell of new
life, of impossible bliss.
You turn to touch the flaming light

Moss

Is sponge-like, encouraging
soapy suds, moisture
to develop in its hide.
You pull at its hair
and come away
empty handed.

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