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.
the map is not the territory
merely the convergence
of arrogance and impotence.
Fixed vision gains illusory control
show me? let me see?
ask – ask again – ask me, then you, then me again,
trying to respond lucidly:
I don’t know where the fuck we are.
I’ve never thought we’d be going home.
We are happy on the road together, aren’t we?
Lost though we are,
reading you with my fingers,
only knowing which way is up
because we both deducted long ago:
this road is the long way down.
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