Blacktown Seven Hills Westmead Parramatta Granville Clyde Auburn
a tantrum turned mantra
senin ağızına sıçarım
Get the fuck out of here. You can just leave
if you’re too good for this family.
Alright. I train it,
the wog out of my throat
tourniquet my tongue
hold it out flat to capture fat droplets
of the rain in Spain
and give every parado on the metro
exactly one euro
mistakes me for a waitress when I pour his prosecco
I realise there’s a way to be polite uncultured
wiping the length of my sleeve he explains
a real up-and-comer
would go back to where they came from.
Don’t be a wanderer, be a Wanderer
Alright. I train it back
plastic sticking to my damp arse crack. Although it’s autumn
I’m cooked. Because now I note the race
of each passenger that alights at the interchange
where I’m over being determined by culture
meets I’m over-determined by culture.
Pick roses in the back yard,
out of bushes I’ve read about,
in the books I went east for.
Her yer çamur
My parents still call me sarışın.
I reckon they know I’m only blond
here, where the sun hits me at the right angle,
when it comes in from the west.
Lidcombe Strathfield Burwood Redfern
all out all change
Eda Gunaydin is a writer and researcher from Western Sydney. She has been a WestWords Emerging Writers’ Fellow and finalist for the Monash University Undergraduate Creative Writing Prize and the Scribe Nonfiction Prize for Young Writers. Catch her other work in Voiceworks, The TJ Eckleburg Review, and Tincture Journal.