Emma Barnes



I am a man

“Here she is” they say of my body. I lifted my breasts into my clothing this morning. I say. I am a man for all weathers. A man for all withers. You said: The horse is loose. I capital I …

Posted in 88: TRANSQUEER | Tagged

binding

the intro credits font crumbles to a song it’s a galaxy of concern, one wherein you lack air. the scenery comes frosted. tell me your times, specific bare feet on the floorboards: locate it, see i’ve got you for real …

Posted in 47.0: COLLABORATION | Tagged ,

perfect teeth

filling glasses to an equal level, quantifying sex, it’s harbour-life. when we walk we progress. overcorrecting my hair for the wind & you say ‘this flower smells good to me’. my Melbourne-centric smile my pronouncements more purposeful, fairness is the key …

Posted in 47.0: COLLABORATION | Tagged ,

Long Form Thought

You are the inside out left hand glove I slip onto my right hand in morning too dim to tell what I’m doing. You do the job. My whole body is one giant fracture as I force it to walk …

Posted in 44.0: GONDWANALAND | Tagged

Tangle and Snare

We’re a triangle tangle and snare. The moon is to our left and we are a wreck on the shore of modern depictions of love. In the harbor you say that you’re on one ship, or on another cruise or …

Posted in 44.0: GONDWANALAND | Tagged

Sigourney Weaver Helps Me Out of Some Feelings (Not Pants)

Sometimes when I consider the inside of my brain it seems like it must be honeycomb not flesh. Or the symmetrical petals of a complex flower. Sigourney Weaver always looks like she wants to tell me to go run around …

Posted in 43.0: MASQUE | Tagged