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.
It’s a curse to look at things cleanly
Call on Mary’s soul (sickly)
To know the blessing in disguise – it’s wise to
Eat your daily dead
The lucky have grass above
The unloved have the grass below
And, when it’s been raining, stuck in the tread of their shoes
Two in the morning I am one in the bed
Wondering if you were in fact
A kinder king and
I, only the peasant radical
Filled with ideas above her station
Was it so wrong to want
To be filled with so many thoughts
To laugh too loud
To look like a lesbian touching a friend
Sometimes to want a moon ceremony
Once to have suggested blood union
Sat in the bath, she urinates the stain
Yellow swirling and blooming
Almost a miracle of silence
As a tree falls into the crevice of a woman, the seam of her
Beneficent and scrofulous
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Dear Eleanor, I don’t believe I’ve witnessed the term ‘scrofulous’ in a poem since Robert Browning used it in one of his soliloquies about a monk. Love this poem so much; great imagery xxx