Published in Overland Issue 241 Summer 2020 Poetry opacities, royal park Emily Barber out on the circle where swallows cut sky we settle, invade thigh-high grass picnic on each other stein for deleuze, a rug’s thickness shy of the australian gothic i short-throw hope like there’s no delusion, just mutual rosy opening we swapmeet sweet heady nothings, note the presence of the absence of something on one elbow, your hair backlit, you declare yourself my covid curtain lover i skirt the unspeakable: lover or lovee, see you rise on cold feet to shake the blanket backpedal, gaze on policed, peopled oblongs such empathy in your hard lockdown heart Read the rest of Overland 241 If you enjoyed this piece, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four brilliant issues for a year Emily Barber Emily Barber holds a PhD in creative writing at the University of Melbourne. Her writing has appeared in Overland, Cordite, Verity La and Hecate. More by Emily Barber 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 3 March 20233 March 2023 Poetry Poetry | 2 rat poems by joanne burns joanne burns the courtyard rat squatting on an empire of pizza boxes rainsoaked piles of stewing cardboard flattened packaging from long covid's eager merchandise anything to transcend an unimagined plague rat traps line the walls like doctors' obsolete portmanteaux from a much earlier decade First published in Overland Issue 228 10 February 202322 February 2023 Poetry Poetry | Inflorescence Jo Langdon History or myth—picture tulip bulbs, unburied like onions. An onion is the likeness Hepburn—in Gardens of the world—proffers in the purr & lilt of vowel, halt of consonant; annunciation that lifts ready from memory
