We’re delighted to give you a sneak peek at Westerly 64.2 ahead of issue release. Along with a host of contributions from across Australia and overseas, the issue features some wonderful West Australian writing, including a poem from Amy Lin, below. Enjoy!
To read more of the wealth of poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction and scholarly essays on offer in Westerly 64.2, simply subscribe to Westerly, and we’ll send you a copy of the issue as the first instalment in your subscription. The issue will also be available for individual purchase on release in November.
Light as a feather
Before cigarettes, before sex or alcohol,
there was the intoxication of attempted
witchcraft. Nineties video tapes stuttered
with overuse, inspiring our copycat cultism.
The phase stood out from the Britney
Spears dance moves, the crop tops
and coloured mascara. As if we were
building some edge into shiny lives, a
dabbling in the dark arts. But our
transgressions were innocent, a friend lying
by candlelight, three of us trying to raise
her by the strength of our fingertips.
The live coffin we hovered around, chanting
light as a feather, stiff as a board. A synchrony of
quiet breath. Was being weightless the
goal of our youth? Already, our bodies were
not our own. What would it mean to
float above air? We yearned to be
casements of flesh, with more space for a
soul to fill. And then someone would swear
they felt a lightness, a twitch
but gravity defied like death.
Watery words ran through our hands,
our gurgling laughter the more potent spell.
Amy Lin is a Perth-based writer and lawyer. Her PhD focused on the poetry of Francis Webb, Bruce Beaver and Michael Dransfield. Amy works as a Governance Advisor for local government.