by Jos Glencross
For my brother
Brothers plant trees and names
found as ancient seeds sprout
pimpled bark and stretch-marked thighs.
Make needles burst red berries, of
full bellies and empty wombs.
Growing pains of trees and T
and trees of pains growing.
Wombs empty and bellies full
of berries - red - burst. Needles make
thighs marked, stretch and bark,
pimpled. Sprout seeds:
ancient as found names.
And trees plant brothers.
Jos Glencross is a queer writer, raised on the suburban streets of Meanjin (Brisbane). They love to play with words and believe in embracing mediocrity and flourishing despite it. Jos aspires to adopt several dozen cats throughout her lifetime. You can find them on Instagram @jd.glenx
Seeking words with sizzle, poetry that wraps us in burning ribbons and won't let go. Send us your best!