Published in Overland Issue 209 Summer 2012 Uncategorized Pillage John Kinsella The museum’s frog info site is sponsored by Alcoa, a company more responsible for the destruction of Hills frog habitat than any other. I went to confirm a childhood memory, and realised those tadpoles and froglets and juvenile frogs we stole from their homes under the spillway of Churchman’s Brook Dam, or from creeks or banks of those creeks downstream that still ran unhindered by engineering, to lift and bottle and translocate to our garden pond (a kind of liberty, we imagined: an old concrete double-sided washtub with its dividing wall smashed through and plughole cemented and buried, so soil and grass lapped its banks), were already or would become Moaning Frogs and Motorbike Frogs. Both defined by their noise, and not their psychologies or composition. We’d observe tadpole conversions. Alcoa mines bauxite. Aluminium comes from bauxite. Each act of extraction is lexical and contrite as donation. No E. M. Forster requirements for narrative are required to tell this story. Its outcomes. Though the sensation of frogskin on your skin was more than citation. And it is with more than détournement that we touch aluminium. John Kinsella John Kinsella’s new work includes the story collection Pushing Back (Transit Lounge, 2021), Saussure's Kaleidoscope Graphology Drawing-Poems (Five Islands Press/Apothecary Archive, 2021) and The Ascension of Sheep: Collected Poems Volume 1 (UWAP, 2022). More by John Kinsella 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 25 November 202225 November 2022 Poetry Poetry | Summer animal Jini Maxwell This summer I can feel myself turning back into an animal. I wake up early and seek out trees, walking through the expansive quiet of the park until the heat starts feeling sharp on my skin. I leave the blinds closed, so when I return home the building is dark and familiar, and as I shut the door behind me I feel a satisfaction I can only describe as territorial. First published in Overland Issue 228 24 November 202225 November 2022 Politics ‘Sir, please get me the Manager’: Brazil before and after Bolsonaro Guido Melo By then, although young in age, I already knew about those rituals of humiliation and how they were part of my Black family's lives. I also knew that surviving those daily interactions required putting my head down and following the instructions received with no hesitation. I must have had ‘the talk ‘with my parents when I was eight or nine. Life was just like that. Being Black in Brazil means living in a war. No one should ever go to war underprepared.