Love at First Dinosaur and Pebbledash

by Jane Flett


In the gallery, they tell me
that eye contact must be sorcery,
for how else to explain it?

A field of vision the breadth
of a cruise deck, a pupil smaller
than a pomegranate seed…

Boom! Somehow, two pomegranate
seeds find each other on the boat
to Hawaii—the only ones who play

pinochle or believe in love
at first dinosaur. I tell them
T rex had a snout as sensitive

as human fingertips, that
there must be so many
ways to kiss. Suddenly…

Boom! We end up slick
& horizontal again, sticky
pink fruit in our cracks.

We’re too close now to catch
each other’s eyes, so we shut
up and fumble. Blackness

& bruised lips, we reach out
for something sorcerous.
Tiny arms, still grasping in the dark.



When I kiss the pebbledash princess
I scald my tongue

Small pink bobbles rise
like the pills on your favourite sweater

They make my tongue look cheap, so
I shave them off

Up swell pips of blood
My tongue a strawberry in reverse

Quick! I close my mouth because
with my mouth closed

No one will notice the gush

My mouth is strawberry softserve
Cherry bomb sugar syrup

The pebbledash princess says
kiss me again & I can

never resist, so I open my mouth
and drench her in red


Jane is an over-excitable pervert with a penchant for ridiculous metaphors and glitter. She’s won various awards, including Salt’s Best British Poetry (2012) and Wigleaf’s Top 50 (Very) Short Fictions (2014), but she’s still waiting to be presented with her honorary tiara and tankard of gin. When Jane’s not writing, she likes to play cello with Ambika in the riot grrl band Razor Cunts, host queer events, and rollerskate down Tempelhof runways in hotpants.

Photo credit: Nora Hollstein via Flickr, All Creative Commons. Photo is of a pink plastic toy t-rex standing in a circle of multicoloured candle wax

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