Sorry we are cash only | Kay Are


                         at the guggenheim

uninterested in the

guggenheim. nothing lies there

only circles circling

the years lie

in the air ahead and you

catch them, writes my academic

crush from downtown

in a text I can’t read without a US sim card

                        she’s listing

with a cello

the words birds say gloss glyph

gank galah how her

body opens

and closes as she plays

             hair tumbling

late heat into loose

glass, park blossoms


               as bluebottles

over the steps







Kay Are writes poetry and prose, draws, sometimes translates, bakes in isolation, walks with her six year old. Born in the Blue Mountains, resident in Naarm Melbourne. 

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