For a week, we side-step that dead warbler, rotting
belly-up on the footpath. I assumed they’d, for dignity,
dispose of it, or at least clear the way. Instead, I’m left blessing
ants, who do what we refuse.
On the last bus home, you spat
theories, how everything looks better after
rain. I could never mock your Frankenstein
Creature eyes, which find greenery richest in
fog. Tell me again how storms scatter headlights
like bitumen solar systems. How to stand
in the rain as my wine-stained dress dilutes
from purple, to pink, to flesh.
You’re compelling. But you forgot that little dead
bird, whose feathers once capable of flight fell
apart after downpour. It’s now a high school
science project: The Stages of
I know what’s troubling you, but the sea
changed again last night and a set of pearl
eyes washed ashore, down by the docks
where the burnouts smoke. Sure, it’s unsettling to see
a loveless corpse. But I’m certain when your body is soaked
through they’ll only have the loveliest things to say.
Shelby Lee is part writer part tea drinker and is currently studying creative writing. Her writing is inspired by a bizarre love of both Absurdism and Romanticism, which means it’s often cynical just never about sunsets. She is driven by the eternal struggle to get the better of words.
Steph Blinco is a third year Bachelor of Fine Arts student. A local Brisbane emerging artist, her practice makes statements about everyday life through collaged imagery. Intertwining psychedelic patterns to create collisions of colour and era, Steph draws influences from autobiographical contexts, ranging from her childhood to her experiences now as a young adult. You can find her on Instagram @stephblincoart.