‘I write the poem so it lives / outside of my body’ is a line from ‘I Write The Poem’ that could be about the cop-coloniser-capitalist that needs slaying. The cop-coloniser-capitalist does his most ruthless work from within, turning the poet’s drive to annihilate in on herself. In the poem ‘Sexual Assault Report Questionnaire: Describe your hair’, Andrada remixes a well-known quote by the poet Alok Vaid-Menon: ‘What feminine part of yourself did you have to destroy in order to survive?’ This collection shows the fundamental importance of calling racism, colonialism and rape by their proper names, to not permit them to be swept beneath the rug of collegiality. These evils turn our daily custom and more reified cultural practices into parodies of colonial forgetting, obscuring the link between cop-coloniser-capitalist and our often-treacherous mind and memory. Putting trauma into words is a first step in a multi-generational journey towards a more convivial co-dwelling on stolen sunburnt country. This, however, is impossible without the acknowledgment – and never-forgetting – of the cuntery¹ that occurred here.

Naming the enemy enables you to name yourself and where you stand. In the ring or in the agora, eyes fixed on an identifiable opponent, your blows can hit their proper targets. Here, there are fighting chances. When you have the opportunity to fight, you have the opportunity to win.