Published in Overland Issue 218 Autumn 2015 Uncategorized Be were: third place, Judith Wright Poetry Prize Kia Groom tonight the pigment will rise through your skin, form in fawn formations deer: your stockinged shanks hang now from half- open window & you slough off loose shoe it was a slow summer but now i crown you in the backseat: destructive diadem nestled in the thorns of your hair, stuck in a swollen wound that seeps a stream of blood i take it, what i’m owed, & crickets kiss your split lips with their sound: oh, whittled girlhood oh, crust of mud that shapes a foot to hoof. the sun sets on your thighs. you stumble out & eyes abandon pigment: sclera floods dark oil & in the road deer: you break open your insides burst with fur i want to plunge my hand inside again & taste beast coronation it was a slow summer but now i pick fine hairs from between teeth & watch you frail shake on roadside gore & glisten of damp girl & dearest that’s the thing, with men we always forget, when hunting for blood, first: flesh. Kia Groom Kia Groom grew up in Perth and is slated to graduate from the University of New Orleans in May, with an MFA in poetry. She is founding editor of Quaint Magazine, dedicated to subversive work from female-identified and non-binary writers. Her work has appeared in Going Down Swinging, Westerly and Cordite. She is online at www.kiagroom.com, and tweets at @whodreamedit. More by Kia Groom 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.