Published in Overland Issue 227 Winter 2017 Uncategorized River of crumbs Sumudu Samarawickrama They are eating the photographs Because there is no bread The photographs proliferate Your excavated back looks suspended we are looking down on you And you are caught on the crumbs of buildings we are standing on that which stood on you The space between the crumbled parts of which you are a part exists For your ashen powdered self is Dimensional and recognisable I lifted a city off your face My little ash-boy My little dust-puppet Of concrete grey and dusted edifices Your black eyes are curious Your toes are lifelike Your black eyes are liquid Your cheeks curve like apples Your black eyes are alive As we try not to see Image: Damascus / Игорь М Read the rest of Overland 227 If you enjoyed this poem, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four outstanding issues for a year Sumudu Samarawickrama Sumudu Samarawickrama was born in Sri Lanka though she’s never lived there. She is an emerging writer currently part of Footscray Community Arts Centre’s West Writer’s Group. More by Sumudu Samarawickrama 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 27 March 2023 Culture Before ChatGPT, there was Rekognition: How Amazon’s algorithms control which books you see Claire Parnell almost fifteen years after approximately 57,000 books by and about LGBTQIA+ folks disappeared from Amazon’s search results, bestseller lists and sales ranks, the company’s algorithms are still unfairly targeting books by historically marginalised authors, including queer folks and people of colour, and controlling how readers can discover them. First published in Overland Issue 228 24 March 202324 March 2023 War Conga line to Armageddon: the rush to get us into a war with China Ben Brooker It shouldn’t need spelling out that Australia could not win a war with China in any sense that matters, even with the backing of the US and its allies. At best, such a victory would be a Pyrrhic one. At worst, we would be so utterly humiliated as to not even know what kind of defeat had been inflicted upon us.
