Dorothy Lune is a Yorta Yorta poet, born in Australia. Her work has appeared in Pinhole Poetry, Pink plastic house, Olit, Ice lolly review, & more. She is compiling a manuscript entitled Lady Bug.

Portrait of Laura Palmer

I cried into my palm
light, I water swans on grass –

I hear the rain was loud
for me; I cleansed the violet

skies that I can now see.
I say their names: Mary, Marylin,

Medusa – I’m with the
holy trinity in a globe – on the

contrary I fall slower &
slower in space’s night, through

pearls who envy my
incandescence. There is a pencil

& a loop pedal – I heared
those damned dreaded mate calls,

I have every response necessary, & fire walks with me.

Mr. Snowman

Bloodshot humid eye excused, as sly as a jewel thief. Astray
windbreaker, beanie, girl in a car, Mr. Snowman

recites his jolly tune. You only ever slipped & squeezed, okay,
I believe you. All I know, your name’s on that icy

mountain, whether your friend aimed a snowball at your eye
like you said or not. Sizzling quarts in the pan, I am

a plastic bead that
does not melt, as sly as cooking oil.
Okay, I believe you: snowy as a window,

frozen dirt, skipping past humid
diamonds astray. All I know, your name’s

on that icy mountain, whether your
friend aimed a snowball at your eye or not.