This Subway Sandwich Quiz Can Predict Who Your Favourite Philosopher Is And It’s 98.8% Accurate
Did someone ask you who your favourite philosopher was? Did you get stuck thinking of a name equally pretentious and performative? Answer these questions to find out what your Subway order can reveal. Instant ostentation, no thinking needed!
The Yabbies
I am drowning under the river red gum, slipping between mud and silt—who can tell the difference?
Man And A Woman
He pictured the half-chewed bread inside her mouth, pulp dissolving with saliva. He thought of her body as porous, dissolving, leaking: the reminder that borders between inside and outside were never clean.
I am unsure if you can hold the weight of this.
Again, I dream that my teeth fall out (this is a dream about control).
Poetry and Consciousness In The Present
Scholars of the Global North sometimes shelter themselves in neo-colonial positions when confronted with revolutionary praxis.
My Sanity is Ephemeral
“Something in a fragile state always seems more beautiful because you realise that they might not be there tomorrow.”
Return To Sender
Dear [REDACTED],
I want to apologise for the scene that I made at The Rose last Friday.
I am writing this letter at the recommendation of Dr Celine Bertuch (my Freudian psychoanalyst).
For the past week, I’ve had a recurring dream where I find you alone in the Quad General Lecture Theatre (K2.05). Only, when I sit beside you, the scenery changes – the wooden pews turn into the firm, purple leather seats of a V Set Intercity Train. You turn to speak, but when you do, your voice is Dr Bertuch’s (she finds this detail quite fascinating).
IN THE ENTRAILS OF THE PRETTY MACHINE
“So I’m there, walking around with L0V3 D0ll and she’s wearing these awfully tight shoes and she tells me it’s so she can always remember her bondage or whatever. Some sexbot thing, I thought. They must know she wants to be a model.”
Angels Don't Fly
“I want to look as beautiful as my casket.
I want to live forever and be afraid of everything.
Life is so good and it’s only going to get worse.
And in dreams, I don’t have to tuck my wings inside my dress.
There are angels sitting next to you in the train,
Yet to earn their halo, yet to enter heaven.”
Kick on Girl
“The play symbol bulges stupidly before the sub-saharan beauty of your jungle. Is heaven nothing but a blank slate? THE END. Play again? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Here is a gift, do not dwell. Here, a new environment. Let me lead you to a new life. You can always begin again.”
