Published in Overland Issue 227 Winter 2017 · Uncategorized Syndromes and a century* Luke Beesley Don’t star/t anything. Keep your _and on a pencil the film will follow. Lift your arms. French for the snack of water from your reach into your bubbling brain. Here is a limb-tangent. Get on the level. Open your eyes – feeling. Corridor the open shoe lace. Clip chips that peal from your tennis indoors – those little squeaks. Upright pain. Panda/Pandora – no matter. We eat inside Jeff Koons’ bubble gum rare eclipse. It’s a sensitivity caused self protection. Don’t doubt it. Don’t begin. Film ¾ of the custard colonised door, no less. Cutlery tides, waterfall tricks. A lover buys her lover clothes. They never fit. Image: Corridor / Jenya Kushnir Read the rest of Overland 227 If you enjoyed this poem, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four outstanding issues for a year Luke Beesley Luke Beesley is a Melbourne-based poet. His fourth poetry collection, Jam Sticky Vision, was published by Giramondo in 2015. More by Luke Beesley › 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 22 November 202422 November 2024 · Fiction A map of underneath Madeleine Rebbechi They had been tangled together like kelp from the age of fourteen: sunburned, electric Meg and her sidekick Ruth the dreamer, up to all manner of sinister things. So said their parents; so their teachers reported when the two girls were found down at the estuary during a school excursion, whispering to something scaly wriggling in the reeds. 21 November 202421 November 2024 · Fiction Whack-a-mole Sheila Ngọc Phạm We sit in silence a few more moments as there is no need to talk further; it is the right place to end. There is more I want to know but we had revisited enough of the horror for one day. As I stood up to thank Bác Dzũng for sharing his story, I wished I could tell him how I finally understood that Father’s prophecy would never be fulfilled.
