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- Published 20240206
- ISBN: 978-1-922212-92-4
- Extent: 204pp
- Paperback, ePub, PDF, Kindle compatible

The first roll I developed,
with its saturated drought-skin
landscapes, spliced
my hometown into a sepia
I could almost swallow.
Five sheep and a fence line –
overexposed spinifex –
Dad’s face in a motorbike mirror –
before. I had been starving,
and the ritual stuck.
Roll by roll. Grain by grain.
Sometimes, when I’m tired
of my own eyes,
I slip the lens cap into my pocket,
its hard little circle
pressing into my hip
as I walk this big soft circle earth
incompletely.
I need to shear my experience of everything
but its texture. Cauterise the moment.
The cattle grate –
the kangaroos –
the manic flick of crickets
in the waterless tank.
History is a heavy handful
and a sore neck, but it
is safer than memory.
You don’t see their little fried bodies.
Only the jump.
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About the author

Alisha Brown
Alisha Brown is a poet and traveller born on Kamilaroi land. She won the 2022 Joyce Parkes Women’s Writing Prize and placed second in...
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