Lower Gan Eden - Liam Hinton
The walls of her temple
sound familiar
in black and white
Showerhead swansong
he holds her sub atomic
Presses her glass finger
into ink print condensation
A southern pulse
tongues the wrap around whip
of the tumble dryer
Her split tile figure
marks the air wet
Ecstasy spills
from the megaphone
Lascia ch’io pianga
And into pink ears
hands that pluck
daddy
from the olive tree
Kiss
The Three Beggars
absent worthies
plagiarised constellations
running a mouth
over supernova fog
Eros and Thanatos
hang umbilical
from mothers waist
She saw her son climb
The windowsill chips
spat onto lavender forehead
But Handel misspelt
regret
Transposed
Rinaldo's overture
Syncopated on parchment
a Lover's cock in Braille
If God won't catch him, the ground will.
Red - Liam Hinton
It's a photo
that took a lot of work to find
and was taken when we were sixteen
By your father
his nerveless calloused hands
like skin sewn glove
And he called me his son that weekend
as family felt their way through high tide
We are walking
my bird bones bent
around your hips
We are the same height
on slanted ground
It was taken before your anorexia
and just after mine
A meeting of malnourished ribs
I hope your parents blame me
I'm lagging slightly behind
like I always did
It's overcast
Like the earth was on the edge of
something
God's mouth stiched
stapled
You could taste the great collapse
We both love red
We are red things
Made in red shapes
And so we wear
red
That weekend
you saw me naked
we all skinny dipped
Sea spray wrapped around your waist
I'm Irish and you're German
We hit the light flat
Let me be the first to tell you
No it's not normal
and yes your parents are weird
Your mum's tits clapping
Your dad's dick in the swing
The least they could do is hate their bodies like everyone else
And before you ask yes tofu is fucking gross
No one's ever been a closet vegetarian
you communist
I feel
pieces of me try to reform
the curvature of your spine
in the candlelight
But I can't build heaven in a silhouette
So I stalk you on Facebook instead
It's a photo of you
and it's a photo of me
and it's a photo of us
and were together
and you are alone
and I am alone
and we are alone together
I want to be made in red with you
again
But I'm twisted around the highschool lifespan
It's more than fitting to leave on a rose
It's not a photo of you cutting yourself
Or us fucking
It's a photo of us
walking away
Contributor's Note
Liam is an actor, writer and student of Theatre and English at the University of Waikato. His claim to fame is beating Conor Maxwell in a fist fight ask him about it because it’s true. Plagiarism is bad.