I ordered an air fryer for $2 but received a bag of glow-in-the-dark stars.

Despite knowing better, I’m still looking
for magic. When I swim in the night time
fiord, through its dense bioluminous
clouds, I am waiting for something
inside me to transform.

I’m twenty-four, I should know this moment
won’t save me, even though I’m alone
in its cold light, under the milky way
and the ferns overhanging the water.
I should know these are plankton, not wishes.          

When I was seven, I wanted to be
a geologist and the pocket of my school culottes
always held treasure: pebbles, cicada shells,
and sidewalk receipts. I read Tintin alone
in the library, by the window overlooking the pier.
I still dream I’m a crab in a rockpool.
I still hope so much that it hurts.

Lily Holloway

Poem note:

The title of this poem comes from the following tweet exchange:

Lily Holloway is a trench coat full of ladybugs. Their first chapbook was published in 2021 as a part of Auckland University Press’ AUP New Poets 8. Their other work can be found in places such as Cordite, Hobart After Dark, Peach Mag, Ōrongohau | Best New Zealand Poems, Out Here: An Anthology of Takatāpui and LGBTQIA+ New Zealand Writers, and various other nooks and crannies. You can find more about what they’re up to at lilyholloway.co.nz or on Twitter @milfs4minecraft.