Published in Overland Issue 248 Spring 2022 · Poetry Poetry | Forest fire // Walking with dinosaurs Josie/Jocelyn Suzanne It begins for the same reasons: spark, air and ready material, grassless under conifer. You study a wax diorama of the soon-to-be Antarctic jungle, ornithischian dinosaurs—eating a plastic fern—named after Qantas; you’re exhuming the bones of an Airbus A330 beside the Pteranodons, angelic actinofibrils stretched overhead like cherubs/principalities a model beak, a reconstructed lack of fangs. The sky is humid with not-dinosaurs, unseasonable amounts of methane in the troposphere, parting gift of the last mass extinction. Something lumpen provides matches like a teen rebel. The Diplodocus sniff the trail of smoke, audience thinks oh shit fire is still real, even here … The creche tastes the air —The erotic tension between a name and fossilising—You may watch skin/hair almost turning scaled in heat. Kenneth Branagh narrates Thanks to their size, the closeness of prehistoric forests they can only amble, as the red approaches. Josie/Jocelyn Suzanne Josie/Jocelyn Suzanne is a freelance editor/writer/programmer. Their work has appeared in Cordite, Southerly and Rabbit Journal among others. They were shortlisted for the 2022 Val Vallis award, and were the recipient of the 2021 Harri Jones memorial prize, as well as being one of the 2021 Next Chapter fellowship recipients. They are a genderqueer trans femme and live on unceded Wurundjeri land in Naarm. More by Josie/Jocelyn Suzanne › 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 November 20233 November 2023 · Poetry our neighbours poem Ender Başkan our neighbours face appears above the fence – hello. our neighbours have a chat with us. our neighbours learn our names. our neighbours become our friends. our neighbours landlord thinks the market is ripe. our neighbours are told to leave. our neighbours try to buy their house at an exorbitant price to keep their kids in the school zone. our neighbours are denied. First published in Overland Issue 228 25 October 202325 October 2023 · Poetry The inhabitants Elif Sezen I died today, among many others, my grandpa died too, and our neighbours, / my best friend, the one with braided hair yes, and our sweet sweet doctors, / our motherly nurses... We heard a blast, then a whoosh of some kind, / and all gone.