Three of my poems were published in Otoliths journal, on 1 August 2022. Otoliths is an Australian online journal created by Queensland-based poet Mark Young.
One thing that drew me to this journal was its name. Otoliths are small round bones in the ears of vertebrate animals (including humans). They sense gravity and movement, which is crucial for balance. As an undergraduate zoology student, I spent hours volunteering on a research project that involved removing the otoliths from small fish. The otoliths absorbed minerals from the water that the fish were drinking and living in, so by matching the mineral composition with the concentrations from different creeks and rivers, it was possible to see where the fish had migrated from.
I don't think I ever found out what the research findings were, but I do remember that yanking out bits of bone from behind hundreds of fish-brains was horrifying and satisfying in equal parts. When it came time to choose my own research project for my Honours year, I intentionally chose a project that involved working with live animals that stayed alive while I was working with them. No more digging into brains with tiny tweezers!
Of the three poems published in Otoliths, the first is Euphausia superba. Before you put that into Google, I can tell you that it's the Latin name for Antarctic krill.
This poem was inspired by an article I read a couple of years ago, Oceans of Krill, by marine biologist Stephen Nichol, from the University of Tasmania. It was published in the anthology Best of Australian Science Writing 2019. What stuck with me was Nichol's commitment to krill. He was so committed that he even had krill tattooed onto his arm.
I enjoyed how in the article, Nichol wrote about krill with such rapture. One of the descriptions I loved was the "shower of pink raindrops", which I used (with credit) as the first line of this poem. It's sort-of a concrete poem, with the lines roughly suggesting (a very small part of) a swarm of krill.
I enjoyed how in the article, Nichol wrote about krill with such rapture. One of the descriptions I loved was the "shower of pink raindrops", which I used (with credit) as the first line of this poem. It's sort-of a concrete poem, with the lines roughly suggesting (a very small part of) a swarm of krill.
It's also intentionally silly in its comparisons, but hopefully zoologically accurate. Euphausia superba can be read here: https://the-otolith.blogspot.com/2022/07/steph-amir.html or an image is included below.
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