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Squatter's Rights

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Published in Edition Two (2024) as part of the Tales of an Unforgiving Land column.

 

Gum breath smells

Minty fresh as gum air

                                                              That’ll clear your sinuses eh?

Whistles lick

at the slick of the leaves,

Primed to scream.

The cattle gate is always open, can't get it to stick.

                                                                          Bloody sheep.

Entrails wrapped around barbed wire, hot and tender

A message.

Something doesn't want us here.

                                                     I won’t be driven out, don’t you worry.

 

Everything eats and is eaten. We chew the year away.

Glancing over our shoulders at the feast

A thief’s second nature.

                                                                   Who’s that out there?

Tap tap tap tap

I cut up the apples and bring in the wicker baskets.

White poplin flying from my hands, stark against the night Gnawed at and spat back out.

All my dresses branded

Seersucker puckered and threadbare.

                                                                      Use 'em for rags.

 

Verandah boards groan and rot

Struggling under the weight of our want.

Taking never stops but

they’re getting tired of giving.

I feel the thump of Virginity against my chest as I dig

Hitting bone, splitting Earth.

Spin me some protection from this acrimony, hands

clasped. A lamb frozen in dust and solitude,

Tough and poisoned, no good for stew.

                                                                       Dig, girl. Dig.

His overused shotgun sits

Dustless in a sea of silt.

All bark no bite,

But even iron fears the rot.

                                             Them dark folk don’t scare me. This is my land.

 
Farrago's magazine cover - Edition One 2024

EDITION ONE 2024 'INDIE SLEAZE' AVAILABLE NOW!

It’s 2012 and you have just opened Tumblr. A photo pops up of MGMT in skinny jeans, teashade sunglasses and mismatching blazers that are reminiscent of carpets and ‘60s curtains. Alexa Chung and Alex Turner have just broken up. His love letter has been leaked and Tumblr is raving about it—”my mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it.” Poetry at its peak: romance is alive.

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