Random Poem


Adam Dickinson

Hello from inside

the albatross

with a windproof lighter

and Japanese police tape.

Hello from staghorn

coral beds

waving at the beaked whale’s


all six square metres

of fertilizer bags.

Hello from can-opened

delta gators,


with twenty-five grocery sacks

and a Halloween Hulk mask.

Hello from the zipped-up


who shat bits of rope for a month.

Hello from bacteria

making their germinal way

to the poles in the pockets

of packing foam.

Hello from low-density

polyethylene dropstones

glacially tilled

by desiccated,

bowel-obstructed camels.

Hello from six-pack rings

and chokeholds,

from breast milk

and cord blood,

from microfibres

rinsed through yoga pants

and polyester fleece,

biomagnifying predators

strafing the treatment plants.

Hello from acrylics

in G.I. Joe.

Hello from washed up

fishnet thigh-highs

and frog suits

and egg cups

and sperm.