Elliot McKenzie
U & me baby, butch 4 butch apocalypse dreams
If we are larvae on a long, long thread twirling
maybe we won’t have to pay rent
or pretend our genders.
We can squat in a holiday home
tether goats to the porch
weave fish traps
carve our names in hearts along the coastline.
& there will be no marriage celebrant, no doctor or surgeon
only calcified, ossified treasures & dried seaweed bladders.
We’ll loot some really skux gear from hunting & fishing
I don’t know how to shoot an animal
but I do know how to gut one.
No more boxes piled at our doorstep
no more targeted ads about ball trimmers
only darning our clothes by the fire under a bright moon
& kissing each other big on the mouth.
I watch your pixels sleeping in the red of your room
I hear my own heart like kererū wings.
I’m learning to bake bread. There are pantry moths in the flour
a green larvae curled in on itself like a tiny finger.
Elliot McKenzie is a fine arts student & chicken dad living in Tāmaki Makaurau. You can’t find their poetry elsewhere because it’s not yet been published.