Poems
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Because Bilal
By Naima IbrahimI pipe vanilla icing on the chocolate cake
shaping out Jenny’s name – the new kid with the mole above her left eye
who reminds me of my favourite niece. I place the cake back in the staff kitchen fridge.
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Gutter of Milk
By Adam Phillip AndersonI hauled myself onto a traffic barrier for a better view. Every direction was teeming with humans. They filled in until the streets brimmed as a mass of flesh. The Kooris and Murris mounted Sydney’s Town Hall stairs. Sovereign. One Koori caught my eye — Young and slim with cropped hair and a beard. Leaning on the concrete balustrade. His face seem… -
Big Aunty Energy
By Gayatri NairI’m with my Brown women akka, didi, siss.
Adorned in my Anokhi home dress
we brush each other’s hair
slightly curly too thick and -
Curry Muncher
By Gayatri NairThis White guy, right? I think his name was Sam.
Went on and on about how much he loved curry.
Well, I guess that must have meant he liked me?
I cringed into my wine glass and took a full swig -
Capsaiscin
By Adam Phillip AndersonC18H27NO3. Latest in trauma R&D.; Harm in a can. But then, through sirens and cruel chaos, a touch transmits a new compound. Both stable and radical.
Call it what you will, its message is clear: Abolish.
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Artificial Jewellery
By Gayatri NairWhen I went to Maharaja Fashion and Beauty in Blacktown
I drove around about 20 minutes to find a park.
It was busy on a Saturday afternoon and all I could smell was the sour injera
and smoked chicken of El-Jannah. Oh yeah! They’d just opened -
The Offing
By Gayatri Nairഓഫിംഗ്
It wasn’t real until the funeral. In Botany out by the DHL delivery centre. I had never been to one for a close family member before. And the water, it wasn’t the Ganges. A traditional Hindu ceremony. They had my Appupen’s name up on the screen, but of course it was spelt wrong. We told them and they quickly corrected it.
I don’t think I’ve … -
Calls from Emergency 2144
By Amani MahmoudOutgoing call: May 31, 3.46pm
“Aisha, please don’t be angry at me I can’t handle it right now.
Listen please, I’m in so much pain yar. -
Scum
By Claire CaoMetal and palms
slick with sweat, chewed lips slick
with blood. Hesitate even
for a second and they’ll all hoot: -
Recording of Ma 21/06/2020
By Claire CaoWhy don’t you ever write about me? I’m full of stories. Sad ones. Things you can’t imagine. Poh poh made me go to an all-girls convent school in Yangon with nasty khway mas who ganged up on me for being Chinese and chubby. Excluded me. Pinned me down, sat on my chest, called me
Bo kyee.
Means you are fat you can’t run you can’t do anything.
Bo kye… -
Christmastime in Canley
By Claire Caoi.
the school orders: come cloaked
in white linen, in sandals smelling