Some sort of yellow, sometimes
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TextAbstract
National Pickle Day
Angelfish –
I’m sitting on a bench in Camperdown Park, imagining you beside me. I pick the beetroot out
of my kebab for you to eat. The juice drips on your jeans. It’s a warm evening. We’re
overlooking the grassy slope where you reminded me why I hate frisbee. The council’s planted
purple flowers. Pigeons headbang to inaudible heavy metal at our feet.National Pickle Day
Angelfish –
I’m sitting on a bench in Camperdown Park, imagining you beside me. I pick the beetroot out
of my kebab for you to eat. The juice drips on your jeans. It’s a warm evening. We’re
overlooking the grassy slope where you reminded me why I hate frisbee. The council’s planted
purple flowers. Pigeons headbang to inaudible heavy metal at our feet.
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Date
2023-05-05Faculty/School
Education PortfolioDepartment, Discipline or Centre
Scholarships and Prizes OfficeSubjects
Henry Lawson Prize for ProseShare