Published in Overland Issue 250 Autumn 2023 · Teaser / Poetry Ribbons Cameron Lowe Little is known about workplace health promotion for bus drivers. That’s exactly how it started: a string of words shaping space into something resembling an idea. Of course, she said, there are always substitutes for the real thing. They worried at it, let it go, and in the rear view mirror there were the back slappers, as usual, jerking off over line breaks. You could say—as fact—dolphin were leaping through winter trees. You could say this is Australia, if you want it. Turning right, turning left, flicking radio stations, tapping out the hours. You could say here’s a thing left behind a long time ago, the child’s dream tilting in the sun. Stepping out, stepping in. If you listen long enough, they’ll whisper to you: here’s the key, kid; you’re sure to find that special thing you’ve desired all along. Cameron Lowe Cameron Lowe lives in Geelong. Circle Work, his second book-length collection of poetry, was published by Puncher & Wattmann in 2013. More by Cameron Lowe › 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 September 202312 September 2023 · Poetry Poetry | Games Heather Taylor-Johnson Days pinch and lately I’ve noticed every time I look in the mirror I’m squinting—maybe it’s a grimace. Without trying I’ve mastered the façade of a Besser block threatened by a mallet, by which I mean maybe the world won’t kill me but it’ll definitely hurt and I’ve got to be ready. First published in Overland Issue 228 31 August 20236 September 2023 · Poetry Verbing the apocalypse: Alison Croggon’s Rilke Josie/Jocelyn Suzanne ‘This again?’ and ‘why now? Why not years ago?’ are the two questions raised in each new translation of a non-English piece of Western Canon. There’s an understanding—of course a poetic cycle like the Duino Elegies is incomplete in English, there are endless new readings—and a simultaneous sense of wounded pride/suspicion: what was missing the last time around? What were you concealing from me? What are you concealing now?