alive; Prey

C.N.P Poetry 

  • Cathexis Northwest Press

alive; Prey

By: Lydia Trethewey


alive


those lost moments smell like an airport carpark kerosene patina, painted-over arrows not quite underground concrete pillars when we were travelling before the ruptured bitumen teeth of our separation came between us splintered out the small parts of our past and ate our bones alive

i occupy a spine and a place outside concrete curbs and verge sides queerness as a verb wandering in this not-ok this incipient insipid wrong tastes of lettuce left at the bottom of the fridge could not make the words right scrape them off my tongue solvent truths consume the future husband, love of my life i'm a lesbian

...

kerosene fires burning the light in your eyes alive





Prey


everything in my house

has a stale-dog smell

flea dirt and unwashed hair

dry and flaky restlessness

I pace back and forth

howl inwardly

breathless

and scratch off my own skin

let the blood get under my fingernails

red cells senseless

I am my own prey

trapped inside this settled place

prowling end to end, the walls

defenceless, rabid, bored

making wasted moments

dust and monologues

and discordant

sighs 




Lydia Trethewey is an artist and writer from Perth, Western Australia. Her work explores experiences of quiescence, daydream and non-belonging. She received a PhD in fine art from Curtin University in 2018, and currently works there as a sessional academic.



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