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published in Wattle Sydney Arts Students Society's (SASS) First Nations, Black and People of Colour literary journal 2021

I am on a bus it is half-late it is laden with 

people as of late. 

outer crevice of my eye I see the pig-tailed tot

swathed in the arms of one who says,

Fei  chong  chong*  / fly little bug

 chong  chong fei / little bug fly


I am six wriggling like larvae 

tossed into air between two sets of hands who

propel me into the glint of the sun.

chong chong flies like a missive

who fears falling when these heights are love? 


once too I could steal snatches,

words pitched down to make me sleep. 

cocooned,  festooned, this little bug is safe. 

flutter under this wing, let me temper these fears

with the singsong of my heart.  


Now little bug flees, while the little bug watches

open-mouthed at the girl who eyed her

steal kisses from her corner seat 

 dash off tear creased, without a word 

while the driver peddles on. 


All her 爸爸 said was: 

Fei  chong  chong 

Chong chong fei 

 to make her chest soar 

to make her eyes round


Little bug, little bug where have you gone?

your lacewing lies have dislodged 

the howling of this throat.

* 飛蟲蟲, or fei chong chong is a chinese children’s poem widely recognisable to the young as a lullaby.

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