We are robbed by dead people

We used to be fish

Now we are mermaids

And I wouldn’t mind so much

If they hadn’t hoisted me out 

of the ocean

onto dry sand

And left me to flop and gasp

With the hook still in my neck.


My favourite story was Pania of the Reef

Who was born in the sea

But was betrayed by a man

-What’s news- 

Cooked food Christianity going in

And nuns whipping the Reo

Out of our mouths

No wonder I throw up so


Trying to rid my stomach

Of the black lies

they fed me while I slept.


A white skin sack with a hidden tail, 

half in, half out. 

This article first appeared in Issue 12, 2018.
Posted 5:50pm Thursday 17th May 2018 by Jessica Thompson Carr.