Dr No

 

 

 

Honey Ryder glistens from surf radioactive, hand on her oyster knife. The hum of a double-O spy with a hard-on blows her cover. Bond, James, who’ll risk his mission for a white bikini — she takes note of this, stashes it away. She acts coy, shows him how to clamber inland. He’s a mosquito on the water’s surface, pistol hand itching her thigh. She confesses: how this island’s Doctor vanished her father; how she still comes for sea-shells she sells on the black market; how the landlord raped her in her father’s bed. Bond’s eyes all wet pity. She tells him how she paid her rent in spider — black widow’s deadly work over one delicious, swollen week. Bond says, “Don’t make a habit of it,” and she puts that jitter, too, in her belt, with the dagger and the spy’s off-licence lust. Inland, then, towards No.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zenobia Frost is a Brisbane-based poet whose work has appeared in Overland, Cordite, The Lifted Brow, ARC and Voiceworks. In 2015, an ArtStart grant allowed her to study the contours of confessional writing with Warsan Shire and — in the Black Forest’s University of Freiburg — with Roxane Gay and Adrianne Kalfopoulou.

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