The non/fictionLab is an interdisciplinary research ecology based at RMIT University, Melbourne, bringing together creative experimentation, critical practice and social engagement. Our writer-researchers aim to reimagine and transform contemporary realities through language, mediations, poetics and collaborations. The nonfiction/lab is proud to partner with Mekong Review to commission a new series of short, collaboratively-written literary works and criticism; this series will examine the notions of space and place through creative exchange and collaboration between writers from Australia and SE Asia.

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[MH] 14 February 2024

Basant panchami,

marigolds in Singapore—

promises of home.

I knead new soil to grow new

roots, on a condo’s terrace.

Witness. Beloved.

rooted in one word—shahid—

I learn, while keeping

vigil (‘All eyes on Rafah’)

daily, scrolling Instagram.

[EC] 18 February 2024

I scroll Instagram:

rubble, death, anguish, slogans.

Summer picnic, Naarm

My Jewish friend says she can’t

be on the socials. Thousands

march streets, Invasion

Day rally, Free Palestine!

After the day’s heat

I run by the Birrarung,

push through tightness in my chest.

[MH] 28 February 2024

Tightness of ‘normal’

day, a man self-immolates.

Black-naped oriole

sings. Empire nears its end.

Inhale (hold). Exhale. Inhale.

hold again, (release).

Saint Levant’s Deira echoes

through my house. I dance

at lunch. Quietly listening

to my heart amid silences.

[EC] 1 March 2024 

A silent vigil.

Candles light Parliament House:

‘We are not numbers.’

The world is failing children.

At my nephew’s cricket match

we don’t speak about

Gaza. Some of the boys taunt

from sidelines, sledging.

‘Apologise,’ barks the coach.

A mother shares sandwiches.

[MH] 8 March 2024

Mothers un-childed.

G € n 0 c ! d e has a new name.

‘Death by starvation’.

At Raffles, my friend takes a

new shot at fertility.

[EC] 9 March 2024

Fertile shoots struggle.

My pot plants gasp, a sudden

March heat wave. On screen

I watch parachutes with aid

boxes. Some fail to open.

[MH] 10 March 2024

I fail to keep snake-

plant alive. Too much moisture.

Or too much sunshine?

Instead, I tatreez a rose

in red that resembles life.

[EC] 10 March 2024

Sweet red refreshing,

we eat watermelon squares

at the park party.

Celebrating a birthday,

we sip hope in paper cups.

This piece adapts the Japanese collaborative poetic form renga—a conversation via poetry, a consolidation of spaces present and missing. Mariyam and Emilie built this poem between January and March 2024.

• Tags: Australia, Emilie Collyer, Free to read, Issue 35, Mariyam Haider, Poetry