Published in Overland Issue 245 Summer 2021 · Poetry Je te veux house Misbah Wolf The house stretched like a big turd that’s been freshly shitted from a gigantic brick beetle and was almost 9351 km from Tibet. You were really into Buddhism, so much so you ate dahl and planned to travel back to Tibet. One end of the house was where your mother lived, and you were at the other. You worked for Brisbane City Council and had just broken up with your girlfriend, her name was a ribbon-like body of water, but it may well have been Ravine. We swallowed the dust together from Mongolian riders, and the shape of your dick close-up made me think of these same riders trampled underfoot in a marble frieze. I travelled far back into the past, with the shaft of your dick in my mouth, a puppet master pivoting before your petite mort, adopting an expression of horror as our borrowed bodies laboured in our separate solitudes. In the night a ribbon-like body of water called you and I realised from the tone that there was now a ravine between us. I zipped myself up, as you lied to my face, 4am in the middle of Boondal where you told me it all ends. You had claimed so much land already with your adventuring that I felt devastated for Tibet even more so. I imagined a giant, but kind, dung beetle coming to roll me up. I thought about your colony of settlers, civilisations dying on the bedsheets, horsemen underfoot wanting a quick death, the pockets of Tibetan green obsidian visible in my mouth, and the Yarlung Zangbo river between my legs. Read the rest of Overland 245 If you enjoyed this piece, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive Misbah Wolf Misbah Wolf is a Melbourne based poet. This new poetry forms part of her second fulllength collection of prose poems, Carapace, out through Vagabond Press. More by Misbah Wolf › 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 8 March 20248 March 2024 · Poetry POETRY Gareth Morgan as if a poem were a person, me, i get up in the morning / i buy coffee in a can, and wait / you have to keep calm, “don't get upset” / or it fucks everything up. the bosses who tell me this / are wise but stupid troopers. this is a political poem First published in Overland Issue 228 16 February 202419 February 2024 · Poetry Two poems from 36 Ways of Writing a Vietnamese Poem Nam Le But think about the children, super cute children, mute children, with uncommonly big eyes, children with hard eyes, eyes that have seen what no child’s eyes should see, children naked as the day wearing big smiles and no smiles, preternaturally wise, with mooned-out tummies and cleft palates and cataracts, deformities and birth defects ...