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.
dog eat dog
Put your good money on the big one, the one with the powerful broad knot of muscles down the sleek-coated back, the one chained and throttling itself with all that fierce foam, rage in the breeding, killing in the birthline. Large, low, heavy to the head and with a guttural bark, always bristling, never still, never resting, that is the money dog. You can be the dog for the money. Even I would bet against me, bait animal, ever waiting to die, waiting and wanting your teeth and your tongue. Some end to spare the endless dead inside. We dream ourselves as ancient warriors, Roman traces in our veins, this world is not for us, the door bitches to Hades. I know you want your money, girl, so dismember me remember me then fiat lux and eat that which belongs to the world.
Pull my every teeth from my head and string them as a necklace of butcher pearls.
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