Francesca Jurate Sasnaitis

Hey Siri

Can you take dictation
He says okay tell me what you want to say
I want to say
Okay I can make a note of that
And fitness correct
And he dies
This time
Baby Rose careers into my room delete delete
Into my room make into my eyes New line into my leg
Into right there
Into my leg thank you
A sneer delete
A hug of pure joy and laughter A smear of banana and my trousers
On my trousers I dream that little boys mutilate and sell themselves
Something to do with seed seed
I make space A space
I make a space for them in my love
I make a space for them in my lap A capacious hug
They are healed every morning
Until it again every night I can feel the verse agree
I can feel the vertebrae in my spine I can feel the curve new learnt
You learn I can feel the curve
I can feel the curve in my spine
Each vertebrae you home Took her face covered
The curve is covered in clothing
The curve is covered New line
In closing


the bed, this bed, shallow lines pressed in the mattress like ribs like breathing shallow breaths up and down, back and forth without beginning and without end, a breezy smile between the sheets a joke, half-buried traces of rubble in the streets the bricks the acne of rust and ashes and ashes more ashes, the shards of glass and books the scrolls line up silent, speak of heartbreak, tableaux of artefacts trapped in a cage of spring green, a delicate shade, a subtle pursuit there and back over the parquetry floor a featherbed a floe a crossing otherwise forgotten, a memorial ten by ten and every tenth a slight shade darker heavier thicker broken between by five by five and every fifth lighter than before thicker and thinner consuming one hard upon the other prohibited by an edge a frame a shallow breath washed over graphite white-out India-ink aquarelle or shellac colour seduced from Kerria lacca flakes of fool’s blonde toffee garnet remarkable dust dissolved in ethanol spirits and carried by a handsome brush of sable hair glazing this expansively gridded sheet of spring green or angel blue yes, blues deserve a mention, as do the rarely caught tawny-golds and ambers, versions of the glaçure de laque applied and dried over and under gouache a pencilled line erased

Author's Note: inspired by the brand of graph paper used by artist Rachel Whiteread for many of her drawings, and by her sculptures Shallow Breath (1988) and Holocaust Memorial (1995-2000)

Francesca Jurate Sasnaitis is a writer and artist. Originally from Melbourne, she now lives in Perth where she is a doctoral candidate in Creative Writing at the University of Western Australia. Her poetry, short fiction and reviews have been published online, and in various print journals and anthologies.
previous page     contents     next page


Post a Comment

<< Home