Two Poems
contusion
first bruise in a year
& it’s nestled right up near my knee
hugging cartilage like some sort of
angry, violet leech
i prod
& feel the flesh retract
—salt on a thundercloud slug
sending ripples across my
glistening epidermis
how far has this
little visitor
burrowed down?
i move
it shouts i shout
from deep within
full-throated & blue
& set capillaries to snapping
i wince at the crack
& the strain
of widening tunnels
Notes on Keeping a Little Guy Alive in Your Stomach
Three days ago, I swallowed a devil
While he stewed at the bottom of a soup bowl
I gasped around hot mouthfuls As he lolloped down my oesophagus Tore streaks into my trachea Smashed my voice box with his tail
And settled
Like a gargoyle
In a damp, red cavern
Even now, he pushes against
My terrible walls
Teeth bared, shoulders shaking
I cannot bring myself to resent him
I taste his hunger with my own
I hear him wail in the morning grey
I gulp rice grains by the spoonful
They clatter around him
In a hard, fast rain
I hear no mastication
I hear only the creak of his neck
When he peers up at the skylight
Looking for airplanes
Aries M Gacutan is a writer and editor based in Wathaurong country. Their work has been published in places like Meanjin, Voiceworks, Layabout, Farrago, #EnbyLife, and Baby Teeth, and they are currently a member of the Voiceworks Editorial Committee. They want to get back into swimming, and they swear they’ll do it once they work up the courage to drive to their local community fitness centre. Just give them a couple days.
swim meet lit mag 