Elly McDonald


REM (1983)

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swimming or flying; it’s exhausting

a lurching struggle to keep on top

to maintain buoyancy, a semblance of direction

How I spend my nights, aloft, in

flapping, plunging, plummeting…

speeding into spirals,

open-mouthed crazed arcs

colliding with telephone poles, tangled

in the wires or

strangled by seaweed, out-distancing

a shark – maybe three, vicious

in pursuit: threatening limbs

that churn, that battle, downward-destined and

ploughing through rubber when there’s sharks

all around, there are sharks

there below

How I spend my nights, afloat, and awake,


Author: Elly McDonald

Australian-born, with English mother, has lived in several Australian cities and in London. Travelled widely. Way way back when, published widely as a poet and short story writer.

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