find the illustrated version here


    spot in the house where the phone works

    words by Nat Briggs


    Spot in the house where the phone works
    Pink robe, butter coffee, end of worlds
    Costume change, silk
    Nightgown, flannel pyjamas
    Heavy fly slipping
    Down the glass

    You tell me about the furniture section at the Lismore car boot market
    It’s just one stall
    Lu’s voicemail telling me
    Their psychic predictions have expired
    Telling me
    There is nothing to predict

    Palm bought the morning
    You and I got into a fight
    I was worried the palm would hold our conflict
    The palm is thriving

    You tell me you want a love party
    You want to bathe in gems

    The performance of the strap on
    The only part I resent
    Fastening the buckles when I feel urgent

    I recorded videos of myself at twenty-five
    Putting together Ikea furniture
    Shoving my whole hand into my mouth
    Drinking a litre of hibiscus tea
    Taking off clothes, putting them back on

    I’m very in love
    I’ve dated a number of people but
    I see now I wasn’t the best person to date
    I could have sat on a mountain and waited
    It didn’t have to be a mountain
    Could have been a bed, table, grass

    During the first lockdown
    I started buying six shots of espresso
    And freezing them in an ice cube tray
    The espresso would last me twelve days
    There were others ways to approach this situation
    However I still use the method
    And will continue to do so

    In episode four of Midnight Gospel
    The main character
    Whose name is evading me

    Is assigned an avatar
    With about nine penises

    It occurs to me
    That nine penises
    Might actually emulate
    The experience
    Of not having a penis

    Costume change
    You and I get into a fight
    Their psychic
    Could have been a table, bed, grass
    Into my mouth
    I still use the method
    Whose name is evading me
    You tell me
    Fastening predictions
    Putting them back on

    I tell you that’s where fairies live
    You tell me no, that’s where mosquitoes live