“I confess I do not believe in time. I like to fold my magic carpet, after use, in such a way as to superimpose one part of the pattern upon another. Let visitors trip. And the highest enjoyment of timelessness―in a landscape selected at random―is when I stand among rare butterflies and their food plants.- nabokov
Thursday, June 13, 2024
Thursday, June 6, 2024
The Mathematician in Love Rankine, William J. Macquorn (1820 - 1872)
The Mathematician in Love
Notes
Sunday, June 2, 2024
Tyrannosaurus S3x
Rory Hawkins
Feels like 65 million years roaming
this grimy restroom and Jez
still can’t hatch a line. He claws
his head, digs dandruff scales from under
nails and tries again, more on
the snout:
‘Hey, darl. What you use all that neck for?’
Words roil from primordial
pickup soup and flop
legless, Jez lungless. He pops
another button of his palm frond shirt.
Music erupts as another stalks
in. A hunter’s hush, this time:
‘Let’s make this bar prehistoric and head back to mine.’
The toilet intruder slashes
at the far urinal, growling how a meatier
man wiped his chances out. End of an era;
chicks’ll love it all until
the impact. Lizard-looking duck
prowls out. Jez hisses vape fumes;
old mate’s too many fossilised sentiments
left him lurching in Valley sediments.
You need colder blood, a pr3dator
smile. Cuz Jez already knows
life finds a way:
‘Welcome to Jurassic C@ck.’
Author: Rory Hawkins is an English/Irish-grown & Meanjin/Brisbane-based Creative Writing student in his third year, aspiring to work in editing and publishing. From a little before preschool to around Year 3, he was a dinosaur kid. Then he discovered Bionicles. Now, he doesn’t have enough drawer space in his room. Find more of his prose and poetry through QUT’s Glass Magazine, previous issues of ScratchThat, read aloud with QUT Lit Salon, and occasionally on his Instagram @rory_writes_sometimes.
Artist: Emma Bruce is a multi-disciplinary visual artist from Yugambeh country working out of Meanjin. Her work discusses the relationship modern society has with the environment through an archival style in hopes to preserve the experience of being in the natural world. Her work hopes to invite her audience to partake in activities that nurture native flora and fauna as well as create a sense of pride to be part of it.
Editors: Bea Warren and Euri Glenn
Thursday, April 11, 2024
Counting BY MARGARITA ENGLE
Counting
Harry Franck, from the United States of America - Census Enumerator
The Giaour [Unquenched, unquenchable]
The Giaour [Unquenched, unquenchable]
. . . Unquenched, unquenchable,
Around, within, thy heart shall dwell;
Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell
The tortures of that inward hell!
But first, on earth as vampire sent,
Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent:
Then ghastly haunt thy native place,
And suck the blood of all thy race;
There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life;
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corse:
Thy victims ere they yet expire
Shall know the demon for their sire,
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
But one that for thy crime must fall,
The youngest, most beloved of all,
Shall bless thee with a father's name —
That word shall wrap thy heart in flame!
Yet must thou end thy task, and mark
Her cheek's last tinge, her eye's last spark,
And the last glassy glance must view
Which freezes o'er its lifeless blue;
Then with unhallowed hand shalt tear
The tresses of her yellow hair,
Of which in life a lock when shorn
Affection's fondest pledge was worn,
But now is borne away by thee,
Memorial of thine agony!
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imothy, you signed up to receive email from Rose's Simple Mystic Miracles, LLC. on 2022-07-16 02:46:16. I love having you as a part of...