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.
Valentinos
the idle hour passed swiftly
watching them not watching me
peeping the Toms
eyes drinking each nuanced moment
his hand on his knee
pointing the spinach, a lovers’s teeth
proprietary still, but not so strong
for neither seemed too large (I was watching)
neither in charge
though surely it is awkwardly the case
I have sometimes found it so
even as I rested my sleeping palms
between another’s breasts as soft as mine
someone must surrender for victory
eventually picking up the cheque
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