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.
I hate to dream of you like that
Ruining me from the inside out.
I held it in my mouth
until nausea overtook me,
belching you out
into the crook of my arm
while downstairs in the yard
a swan gave live birth
to a motley collection of headless
wingless eyeless lumps –
they were our children.
I swore to myself that
as soon as the linger
of bleach left my tongue
down the stairs to the yard I would go
to get them ready for school:
like you said, I’d make a great mother.
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