The bees

Stored in our bodies

For all this time

As cruelty reigned

Cold and hard

And we knew those soft and warm among us

Were not safe

The bees

Buzzing inside

Out-noising our minds

Keeping us stiff

Alert

Afraid

The bees

Vibrating constantly

So that our jaws may never unclench

The bees

Tying us up from inside

Nervous system overdrive

The bees

So long they resided within us

We forgot that we were not made from them

The bees

Swarming

Storming

Stripped of warning

The bees

Explode from our mouths

As we sigh in relief

At the end of the season

Of harsh tyrrany

The bees

Roaring

Imploring

The noise in our heads

Spills out unchecked

As at last

The women of Australia

Release

The bees

(C) Zoe Xanadu 2022

On the occasion of our historical release from an abusive government.

And so

Late stage capitalism closes in
Sputter stumble grip squeeze…
We heave and try
We trudge and sigh
Bound, and on our knees

Conditioned slaves to a broken system
Acutely self-aware
Of our own pathos
as we participate in the continuation
of our own oppression

How could we make a poem with rhythm
When jolting discomfort is what is now so deeply familiar?
When removal from so much of what is natural and beautiful about the human experience has become our accepted reality…

How has it come to this though?
Our ancestors would not have wished it for us.
The legacy we stand to leave does not look great.
And yet, here we are, rubbing our noses in sea-trash-to-be, as fossil fuels burn on.

Eat shit and die. Could we at least soften it with a comma, or even two, for Oxford?

We fell

The states were closed to one another
As our hearts lit up

A tiny window opened for us
To sip from true love’s cup

We yearn and strive to feel close
With new laws holding us apart

We both stay home so far away
When home is in each other’s heart

I long for you my darling one,
To feel your arms around me

To hear you whisper to my hair
Of all the things that should be

Hold on my love, and I will too
To the truth of our sweet story

This pain we know is compost
For a garden full of glory

(C) Zoë Xanadu 2021

Delivery

Hanging preschooler sized pants on the line
On a sunshiney lockdown day

Brrrrmmmmm
The postie bike stops at my gate

Through he comes with two big packages
“I’ll just put these here”

They sit by the door
As I continue my dance with the endless laundry cycle

I pick them up on my way inside
One, a bundle of online fast fashion for the teen

The other addressed to me
Flat, registered, with stiff cardboard inside

My graduation certificate and testamur
Just like that

Ten years of isolated online toil
Solo parenting, working so many jobs

My Masters degree has been conferred in hi-vis
From the other side of the laundry basket

Not a mortarboard in sight
But what beautiful weather for Graduation Day!


Comirnaty

Hello spike protein
Welcome to my systems
I see the genetic code in you,
And invite you to show my body
How to make copies

Good morning dear body
This is an invited guest
Please make them welcome
Drop down into accommodation mode
If you will, and help them do their work

A biscuit dear guest? A cup of tea?
Let me show you to our lovely bath
Soak in here awhile with your kind host
And get to know each other
Find your harmony like new lovers

Befriending the reality of our times
Supporting our communal wellness
With a perfect fusion of love and science
Dear body, you and the virus share Mother Earth now
May you do so safely and gently
It’s ok
Keep
Breathing

I love you