After the Land Quaked in Half for artist, Andy Kehoe, who pours layers of resin to make Worlds Apart resin I Trees remain standing as soldiers once did thrusting forward their chests waiting in line for the bullet they sing of death with their scorched trunks skewered branches and fallen leaves with no verdant memories skin barely coats our bone stomach whittles to stone body overwhelms the lyric no bird or priest to mimic We crank up this liturgical dirge when stomping out embers refusing to die foraging for charred edibles training our minds to stop craving a shower resin II Noise is on our side as it is on theirs a bewildering howl from space concrete steel glass aluminum bitumen quaked into a gulf of infinite falling we cannot offer a song for the sodden While our limbs drown in a sewer of thunder our hunger is swallowed by tides trenches brim with our drenched creatures mopping houses into endless gorges resin III After anger melts to sadness After promises vanquish into madness we nominate the strongest and most verbal to stand at the edge our hero wears a cloak of seared cat our hero wears a coat of nervous deer spears blunt words at the brink of crematoria bellows our downfall to soured gases happy we don’t own your angry ocean sad we don’t own your flashing light our hero extends a soaked hand too far away for touch resin IV Across the gulf they each bow as clouds from their side tackle clouds from our side as air spews a downpour then blows a haze of smoke they meet each other’s gaze in middle distance where blue and red plummet into the guilty grey chasm of no ground to burn no sea to drown and nothing more to lose Inclement most days are broken into layers of hello and goodbye some get more than murky an awkward reach for her hand no words are required when the room is full of galaxy see how your manager looms in the shape of hungry storm bodies secrete a clear warning sweat runs faster than blood they say it is fire and wind fighting for remnants of earth authority is lost in the mist the sky is the world’s newspaper keep holding her hand as your heart thunders ** Fever The authorities ring every second day when did you first notice? It was less than a month ago I can’t remember whether it began with a sore throat a cough a headache a shiver an argument or ghosted into existence I remember what wasn’t listed as symptom In our bedroom we have an enormous print titled Together in the Maelstrom we lie back on our pillows stare at this very small couple with their back to us holding hands they tentatively stand on a peak overwhelmed by a crush of colours shapes lights senses The first night he was clinging to our vertical mattress he heard me singing a tune I’d never sung when well despite my rasp I was on key when I stopped I said a word as an announcement to all in my dream by morning he forgot that word he’d held all night The second night was when the bile stewed hot daring to outrun my lungs there was Little-Me and Dying-Me discussing my life alone in the queen size bed I saw her let go of his hand and fall into the void that couple is framed with suffer when I turned my bed into the sea with my sweat I knew it was over I walked away from my sheets exhausted with the guilt of not fighting wars holding up placards stopping fracking mining –––– I let go of his hand to fend off the claws in that painting The phone call from the Department was three days too late for me to explain with accuracy the temperature and oxygen level whether he needed 16 puffs of Ventolin like I did in the corner of the painting he saw seven lightning strikes // I’m sitting by his side holding his hand they tell me he knows it’s being held he continues to work so hard even in silence here is hung the brightest blue of skies inspiring the sea’s ripples to lap the honey dunes when he wakes he will notice Angela Costi Angela Costi is the author of five poetry collections including Honey & Salt (Five Islands Press, shortlisted for Mary Gilmore Prize 2008) and An Embroidery of Old Maps and New (Spinifex Press, awarded The Book Prize for Poetry in English 2022 by the Greek Australian Cultural League); together with nine produced plays/performance-text. She received the High Commendation for Contribution to Arts and Culture, Merri-bek Award 2021. She is known as Αγγελικη Κωστη among the Cypriot Greek diaspora, her heritage. She lives on the land of the Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung people of the Kulin Nation (Melbourne, Australia). See AngelaCostiPoetics for further information about her writing.
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November 2024
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