Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet,
performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal
about town, feminist, freewheeler, and
friend. One day, she is going to be an
ideas curator. Which basically
means, she will tell you
exactly what she thinks.
Until then, you’ll have
to read between
the lines.
he did not quite know rage
the dam-burst drown of it
the foul incinerating breath
though he had seen it on TV
and could, on cue,
impersonate the wild-eye
he had never known the iron-shower
spears raining to the battle cry
the keen of women heating the air
the fury blown of it
the rampage immolation
of our very selves and so our enemies
but it was good for picking up chicks
who liked that sort of thing
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