Published 12 November 202117 December 2021 · Poetry / Friday Features Poetry | The conversation with pest control Ali Jane Smith Not everyone knows I was once a giant cockatoo, and the moon is an egg I laid. I tried to keep my egg warm but I was a drag on the tides so I flapped back down to earth and left her alone in the sky, cold and reflective. Bump. Lost my wings. Lost my beak and claws. Soft hands, slippery mouth, plain feet. It’s been a dry, dry year. 82 mulberries missed by the flying foxes and me fell and were crushed, by coincidence onto the grey pavers in exact and tiny replicas of Goya’s Disasters of War. At the bus stop a bluetongue lizard lives beneath the warm cement. The bluetongue always has questions asks me to ask the man in the street why he is looking up into the branches of the old eucalypt? The man points out a hive, another hive, another and two more. He’s been told to persuade the bees out of the tree so the chainsaw operators won’t be stung. But the queens are deep in the limbs. The bees won’t leave. Even smoke won’t make them drowsy after a season of fire. They’re dancing the story of the bees on the space shuttle Discovery learning to fly in zero g. The moon has set. The bluetongue has warmed up and moved on. The pest controller and me stand earthed, contemplating the tree I can’t describe: ugly, beautiful dangerous, safe, irresolvable, hollow the boughs like the sturdy arms of a daughter the boughs full of bees, keeping the tree. A place to rest your sulphur crest. Overland’s Friday Features project is supported by the Copyright Agency’s Cultural Fund. Ali Jane Smith Ali Jane Smith’s poetry has been published in literary journals such as Cordite, Overland, Southerly, Rabbit Poetry Journal, Mascara Literary Review and Plumwood Mountain. She has also written reviews and essays for The Australian, Australian Poetry Journal, Cordite, Mascara, Southerly, and Sydney Review of Books. More by Ali Jane Smith › Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays First published in Overland Issue 228 8 March 20248 March 2024 · Poetry POETRY Gareth Morgan as if a poem were a person, me, i get up in the morning / i buy coffee in a can, and wait / you have to keep calm, “don't get upset” / or it fucks everything up. the bosses who tell me this / are wise but stupid troopers. this is a political poem First published in Overland Issue 228 16 February 202419 February 2024 · Poetry Two poems from 36 Ways of Writing a Vietnamese Poem Nam Le But think about the children, super cute children, mute children, with uncommonly big eyes, children with hard eyes, eyes that have seen what no child’s eyes should see, children naked as the day wearing big smiles and no smiles, preternaturally wise, with mooned-out tummies and cleft palates and cataracts, deformities and birth defects ...