I have a poem on page 8 of the latest Woolf Pack! It’s about migrating Caper White butterflies in Brisbane ❤️ You can read the digital copy on Issuu here.
Her Wedding Ring
I clench my muscles.
With squelch and grunt
circling into the bowl.
Crouching on cool bathroom
tiles, I dip my arm into dull
yellow water, hold it in my hand
for a moment, remember
your fingers slipping and curling
into me. I towel off the ring
and place it in an envelope,
which I leave in your letterbox.
An hour later your texts: HE KNOWS
HE FUCKING KNOWS
and I imagine your fingers
sliding against the tears
that splatter your phone screen.
This poem was first published in Woolf Pack issue #7. You can buy the issue here.
Going to Sticky Institute’s Festival of the Photocopier this weekend in Melbourne? Then check out the Woolf Pack table! Issue 8 will be launched (which I have a little poem in!), and there will also be copies of ALL my zines for sale. ❤
Sadly I’m stuck in sweaty Brissie and can’t be at #FOTP2017 myself but I hope it’s a zinetastic experience 😘
Last night’s Woolf Pack launch was magical and cider-filled. I socialised with other rad zinesters and was told my poem in this issue is ‘great but weird’, which is the best compliment IMO. Make sure you pick up your copy of Woolf Pack #7 to experience the weirdness for yourself and to read every other wonderful submission in there. 💖💖✨