spooky action at a distance

By | 31 October 2021


Something drops onto my left shoulder
as we dreamfuck each other’s outlines. I scream
A COCKROACH. They brush it off
but the threat is still there
and the bedroom is too messy and there are
too many places for insects the size
of THE FINGER to hide.
As much as I want to
keep us between our thighs, Kafka’s too real and I
stumble backwards through the


Sunlight refracts and glitters like a miracle.
I burst up from beneath the water
to the surface. An old beard on the shore is
jump–waving at me, not in greeting
but in warning. The ocean is coming.
I swim–run–crash to the sand; it breaks, consumes the mangroves,
the leftover lands.


Reach into the independent world created out of pure intelligence.
Find the Eye of Horus fragments and balance them back together,
a reaction, a product,
a chromodynamic alchemist trapped in their own house–
X’s bedroom–childhood home,
underground tunnels blocked off by


I clamber further into the womb that bears no new life,
only that which has died many times before.
I know it is a trap.
Submit to the pursuit–earthquake–collapsing
the red blue eyes that do not blink. A knife is never just a knife
but the intention.
I surrender / cease to slither. I am at the bottom of a hole
in the earth and all I can see
is the light I cannot reach,
diaphanous mercury


Until the hole is not a hole
but the outline of other people creatures.
I have so much space to move
between them, even nod my head in greeting to some,
share a knowing crescent moon.


I did not expect to find you here, waiting for me.
Your skin a forest floor,
your greeting that of a child
down a hill.
Open I LOVE YOU like
I’ve loved you for as long as
the speed of causality
which I have, since

\ the doubletake on the bicycle

\ a doorstep and scrolls of voice across the strait

\ a journey to \ the choir
the end of the night \ prescient fried
\ the backseat of a taxi vegetable dumplings

\ 4am fog \ the smell of the first fruit \ eight hours straight
of fig season along the Hume Highway

\ the second cup
of a twice-born panther \ , since I first saw you on stage.


I am inappropriately dressed for such an occasion,
swaddled only in the misery
we were assigned
but as we embrace, the cloak transitions:
a shimmering black cape,
a manta ray,
pale rainbow nacre,
the warp and weft of


And though we are two separate knots
we disentangle.

Wind the loom’s prophecy
backwards then


\\ Kαι εν κοιλάδι σκιάς θανάτου
η ΓΗ είναι ο ποιμήν μου –

\\ Yea, though I walk through the valley
the LAND is my shepherd –


time travels south
into the gut
and pelvis

horny! for the tall copper tower
horny! for the many names of truth
horny! for visions bigger than revolution

walk the language
between languages

the breaking of the word

like bread

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