Published in Overland Issue 220 Spring 2015 Uncategorized The bush and the internet are interchangeable Michael Farrell A wife looks at her husband; a treefrog at a modem. They view the bush from a comfortable position: enjoy wifi by the campfire like a Manet. Five years later the scene becomes unrecognisable. (May flocks of mosquitoes and other blessings … But that’s no subject.) Suddenly, after pages of sympathy, to see a yam like an idealised bull pizzle. (Pizzle a word not often mentioned on the internet.) The paddock’s dry, the river flows into the spare living room. There are videos of thousands of birds avoiding each other. Why? Yet, a poem should not resemble flora chatting at a party. Sometimes it’s hard to know where Australia is. Am I that snakeskin? Or the wind that tweets of conformity? I’m searching for your ghost name in quote marks your picture, your catchphrase, the trace of your body lures me on, we are heading further away from the town, the road is narrow, winding, leaf litter everywhere. I’m clicking on life guards but the air con’s unresponsive. I know there’s salt in the creek: a pink cockatoo’s spitting popcorn at the window. Should fences keep vagabonds out or in? Beware a flash cattle grid: cluey trolls will tuck up their swags and roll right over it Michael Farrell Michael Farrell's latest book is Family Trees (Giramondo), which includes 'Fiat In Turin', published in Overland 229. More by Michael Farrell 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.