At the Opening • Pantoum for Roadkill
At the Opening
at the opening
I crane my neck
around until
my head
snaps clean
off all the
supermarket
aisles start to
bend as though straight
lines are going out
of style cracks
start to
show in the living
room from the
heaviness
of nostalgia a
humming in
my infected ears
caused by looking
directly at people
I know only
indirectly a
person I well
know tripped
on my head
in the way people
walk backwards into
sculptures a
string of men
wearing uniform
waltz into a cafe
called commons
while the
mice slip by
unnoticed
⟰
Pantoum for Roadkill
Spend my days peeling stickers from glass
My eyes green spies when rash
I am only on call for collision
My throat hoarse in frozen protest
My eyes green spies when rash and I ask you
Photograph my hands in steering
My throat hoarse in frozen protest and see me
I the backup dancer
Photograph my hands in steering you see
I chroma keyed out of the scene
I the backup dancer who needs
I speed to stop for stop signs
I chroma keyed out of the scene you see
Fine young cannibals drive me crazy
I speed to stop for stop signs alas
I steer my leadfoot grave way
Fine young cannibals drive me crazy or I’ll
Spend my days peeling stickers from glass
I steer my leadfoot grave way away
I am only on call for collision
I collide.
About the author
Sheena Colquhoun is an artist, poet and musician currently living in Narrrm (Melbourne). She has been published in UK journal Tender, and was a member of the Express Media Toolkits program. Sheena is the host of Meaningless Legs, a poetry and soundscape show on Skylab radio, and is the co-editor of Vinegar Journal.
