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OMEGA | Jessica Schouela
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Jessica Schouela

28 Apr Jessica Schouela



After a night of quasi-bloody knuckles,
and red-rimmed eyes
I am in the mood for blue-green,
for cerebral coasts;
I wish to return to my grotto
to spend the night in my own company.

I expect to hear sounds
of animal syntax
voices coming from natural sarcophagi,
ghosts singing me lullabies,
because I am too old
to listen to such songs
sung by other adults, living.

If we could only form an allegiance
with outer space,
we might succeed in
making an order of things.

If only we could see things
through telescopes, then microscopes,
then pixelated and only then in focus,
perhaps we would replenish our brains,
with emotional electrolytes,
find a new means for compassion.

We are undone by our boredom
and sing songs around the fire
alongside Alex playing
the acoustic guitar.

Perhaps if it were just the two of us,
we would howl like wolves
and wait for the response
in our own voices.





My boyfriend is a gangster,
he makes gang hand gestures at me
that I don’t understand

he is a punk-rocker,
a metal head with a ponytail and
a stoner.

He is a gaming geek
and a hippie
and dyes his hair blue.

He is a gorilla,
a grizzly bear–sex addict,
a cactus.

My boyfriend is a swimmer
who learns the front crawl again and again,
he is a snowman

and a poet,
a musician
and a handyman –

he is very DIY
and handsome as
a tornado,

he is an alien with green skin
and orange eyes
and tattoos on his face.

He is a phantom and yet,
the most real being I have ever met.
He is electric.





In the future,
some foods would give you an electric shock
and this electrocution
was thought to be good for the hearts
of those who got too comfortable
on La-Z-Boy recliners.

In the future,
toys would act as extensions of children
like those Barbie mermaids
who change colour when you put them
under different temperatures of water
and would make the kid turn blue and pink
sometimes green even if there was some kind of
malfunction in the doll.

In the future,
the scientists have collected all the data,
deemed it all unharmful for the body
until it would become a carcass
decompose in a way altogether unexpected
in such a way that
it would ripen too quickly
and rot the earth even if inside a coffin
or cremated
that it was now necessary to grind
human flesh and bone in a massive blender
and feed it to the kinds of dogs
you don’t keep as pets.


Jessica Schouela is originally from Montreal and is currently pursing her MA at UCL in Art History. Her dissertation focuses on the Challenge for Change documentary films made on Fogo Island in 1967. She is currently based in Edinburgh and has been published in The Quietus, Electric Cereal, Poems in Which, The Squawk Back amongst others. She runs and edits the e-zine Hot Tub Astronaut. For more of her writing visit her blog.

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