Caitlyn Steer


Let us do nothing, nothing

Let Us!

Let us be the bear and beehive,
for knowing what I know,
I still prepare to drink.
Mine and I are earnest beekeepers.
We peer through glinting catacombs
and know ourselves gilded mules.

Let our children suck green thumbs
once we unspool neatly, take root
under this green frond, that bough.
Let us snake dragon-like, bellies
together on an unhindered wind.

Let us be left alone.
Let us eat together.
With horses we eat the goats
while the rabbits’ fate 
is opaque still.

Let us,
with cellars brimming,
,,



II

I now write this rulebook
against meconium,
against your stemmed bile,
your implicated tastes – 

Sopor steams infinite.
Eye now see.
Take my food delicately.
My meat is me.



Factory Outlet

All my sex into this pink, sequined poly_____.
All my fuck into the weave.
I smear into it, stain-like.
It knows, it wants.
I have two parents.
It has community,
amongst other pink poly_____,
in its place of birth,
the obstacle ________ street.
Sticky – I’m all smeared in now.
Zygote ensues.



IV

He swills and sweats the night inside,
stars seeping down our backs,
that crack, cold air filtering
into pores, thin greasy hair,
the dark boards above,
the pale stranger beneath.

Lupine in stolen furs,
oozing with pheromone stink,
he spreads his arms wide;

“I am here”, he says grandly.
He snuffles for sweetmeats.
“I have a clock.”
He fumbles for moistness.

We are birthing lemuria.
Our children are righteous,
but not clever,

So we fester, 
and corrode,
through the rain,
through the epoch.



Fermata

You need no bloodthirst
to do what you have done.
You need not worry, nor fear
a divine knife, the knowing cloak.
Just cool, wet, southern air,
and you, here alone.
It can stroke your hair,
your lemon’s skin nests
for mineral-blue mould to rest;
So stillness. Time,
at your scale,
no world beyond
this place, where
an angel may tilt your chin up
and smile into your mossy face.

We are finished now.
Let us do nothing,
nothing.

Caitlyn Steer is a travelling writer and geologist. She writes poetry and short fiction. She loves the sun, the beach and the bush.

 
 

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