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Verge 2017 – Chimera

28

Trigger Questions

Joan Fleming

As a child, my descriptions enjoyed reckless partiality.

I didn’t know blood was a paste.

My teeth fell out and I was gifted money.

I learned to believe in Warlpiri as they lined the family hallway in picture frames.

I was sent home with pox and trigger questions.

What kind of creature am I?

I am the fat white bulb of the ghost moth.

I never enjoyed the scrambled taste.

As a child, I suffered the standard contagions.

In bed, I made my home report on the Australian insect.

How do I live? What are my phases?

I slept in a bed of generous and unearned proportions.

I gave myself the sailing feeling.

I recovered from a picture story of an emu who ends her own children with a rock.

Their bodies lined the family hallway in frames.

Ritual is a concentric circle. Dinnie, Hitler, Harry, Bullfrog.

I knew some of their white names.

I touched the dots til they rasped, then I went and watched television.

I practiced my routines in the living room.

I could be a darling of the world of white actors.

When my teeth fell out, I woke up with money.

I didn’t know blood was a paste.

Witchetty grubs live in a burrow of their own creation.

I recovered somewhat, I returned to my learning.

Still a child creature reading the pictures.

Constructing world as a mesh that lets paste through.

Verge 2017 – Chimera

   by Bonnie Reid, Aisling Smith and Gavin Yates