Published in Overland Issue 233 Summer 2018 · Uncategorized Fixings of Musedom (or How to Use a Muse) Melinda Bufton I mean it to be a thing that is lank but fond like a dead feather boa no-one can remember who it belonged to originally god but you still grab it when you’re loose, and flamboyantly tear it round your shoulders with nary a thinking. Look, it’s like a plastic bucket lying around that you tip some rainwater and dead leaves from before turning it to another purpose. I dunno. A zucchini harvest or the like. Look. It’s just the same as when you go to Zara or H and M and you KNOW that the innocent polyesters died in their thousands for the pelt you now drape with hope over en-sleekened peach, the in-sucked stomach of your comely bargains. The polyesters died, and you will probably buy this little rag. But no matter. You could also just wear a bucket. No-one really knows this but if you shush down the voices of your own makeover hamlet, the Muse pops up and tells you what to wear anyway. THIS IS HER MAIN FUNCTION. Image: Buckets / flickr Read the rest of Overland 233 If you enjoyed this poem, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four outstanding issues for a year Melinda Bufton Melinda Bufton is a poet and doctoral candidate at RMIT University, researching contemporary feminist poetics. Her latest collection, Superette, was recently released by Puncher and Wattmann. More by Melinda Bufton › 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 1 6 November 2026 · Friday Fiction Headland Harry Goddard He must have still been sore. I could tell from the winces he made as he scooted down the trail. Some unspoken agreement of not hitting other people’s children — and the circumstances of me not being that type of kid — spared me from the same punishment. I was taken to my parents who agreed I would have to work off the damages, and I must have mowed the lawn once, or cleaned the family car. 4 November 2026 · Film MIFF, Minotaur and the politics of maternal reception Alicia Byrnes Maternal labour is, in the terms I’ve set out here, not labour at all. Noisy, unfocused, mobile, perhaps even sleepy — it is an affront to arthouse film viewing and therefore unserious.
