Author Archives: Tanya Meeson

Inquisitive darting to and fro With no real place to go but this way Or that and you’re so tremendously Fat for your kind Place my finger above the bowl and watch You taste and with apparent distaste for the Morsel that it isn’t twist your Transparent chemical delicate bone a small cut Into fleshContinue reading “Gold fish”

2. you drop hardly heavy to the naked sky but huge hole you make with nothing to show for your being but the monotony you break 5. quiet hush do not speak woman place be humble be meek quiet hush do not want woman place be servant offer cunt quiet hush do not see woman placeContinue reading “The Lamentations of Dolores Day”

The suns were setting earlier by a few minutes every night. The elders were quiet about it, but we – being the youngest and most stubborn – were loud and challenging. It was a strangeness we could not accept. We had so little play time out in the open anyway, it felt as if theContinue reading “The Malling Mare – an excerpt”

I figured Max probably had three items of clothing he wore on rotation. I had time to think about this when I got stuck in a conversation with him earlier this week. As he mumbled about his dead dog and its mange that had brought the neighbourhood’s ire down on it like blades – probably theContinue reading “Max”

Her favourite seat is the window bench, next to the wall. The bench is a solid slab of oak; the window, a wall of glass to watch the world outside moving on foot, on skateboards, in cars. Here, around her, the smell of food and coffee melts into the din of brunchers. Above her, aContinue reading “Imagining writing spaces”