Once on the old port of Sunda Kelapa, Betawi cradled the East Indies spices. When tropical rain poured over her plantations of mangosteen, hibiscus, guava, nutmeg and cloves, she would surrender to the heat under her banyan tree and sleep heavily. In her youth, she bathed in the sap of pomelo rind and her nipples … Continue reading
In my hard boots I wandered into a field of thistles crushing violet weeds, bits of bricks and tiles, broken glass from a house I once knew. My mouth was wild, foaming her name. I heard my child’s moonless moaning and my house bursting into a cake of flames. After the rain, by the river-death, … Continue reading
Do not say a prayer, shed a tear, nor place a wreath on my grave, but bury me instead under a mangosteen tree once I’m stiff like lead. Once I’m dead, drip mangosteen milk, and wring the sweet white arils till its juices soak my funeral shroud. And when I die, embalm my head and … Continue reading
The gods do not make great-grandmothers like they used to. Mine reeked of damp earth, nutmeg, grew betel vine to feed her habit, chewed and spat betel-quid till her lips ochered and teeth blackened. She reeked of damp earth and nutmeg, plucked vine leaves at subuh, wrapped them into quids, chewed and spat them till … Continue reading
Mona Zahra Attamimi is Arab-Indonesian, born in Jakarta. She lived in Washington DC and Manila before settling in Sydney at age nine. Her poems have appeared in Meanjin, Southerly, Mascara Literary Review, and the recently published anthology, Contemporary Asian Australian Poets. She has studied Anthropology and Women’s Studies at The Australian National University and the … Continue reading
Poem and Dish 