Beneath The Sky 2025: Elijah Money
Videography by James Henry
This performance was a part of Beneath the Sky: Resist. Reveal. Reclaim. It was filmed at Peppercorn Lawn along the Birrarung in the heart of Naarm, and was proudly supported by Aboriginal Melbourne at City of Melbourne.
Photography by Tiffany Garvie
‘No Rhythm’ by Elijah Money
Blak Queer joy is a radical practice of anti-colonial magnitudes
This rejection
Born by self love
Cradled by community
Heels in hind legs
Relearning voice
Octave shifts
We dance and coo
Most nights
Nurtured to
Shine in sweaty*
Dimly lit caverns
Until our faces
Ache
From smiling
So taut
Lines sown
After YEARS, DECADES, CENTURY, MILLENNIA,
Of earnest
Deep expression
Decorating this
Skin in
Preparation
For our
Deep Sleep
Blak Queer joy is a radical practice of anti-colonial magnitudes
This thought
Terrifies them
How we
Break illusions
By thrashing our
Tiny handbags-
Shattering
Their faux
Imported
“familial”
Formalities-
Feigned &
Enforced L-A-W
Harsh hands.
A supposedly
Rigid
Barrier who’s
Circumference
Appears fragile
Under further
Inspection
We serve as
A threat
To their
Self: Imposed
Important
Immovable
Structures-
Oblivious and
Naive at the
Depth offered
“outside”
Their dome
Blak Queer joy is a radical practice of anti-colonial magnitudes
Despite the
Obsessive
Possessive;
We exist
Outside of
Their ‘comfort’
Dun’t matter us
Though hey bub?
We’re busy diva!!
Blacklight on
Sweat pearling
Feet smacking
Hips winding
Hands flickering
Teeth glowing
Laughter howling
Smiles abundant
________________
‘My Current Letter to Future Her’ by Elijah Money
Aspiring creation
Formulated upon
Contemporary terrain
Old frequency
Claiming fresh-start
Deep unsatiated
Panic — hunger;
Futures ahead
Hold an unknowing
A fear
Coin flip every
Metal -
Swipe tables
Push it forward
Water evaporates weight
-
Here hare here:
This is a wish
For something I
Don't know
First hand
And it's
Of something
I've never before
Held breath
In wait of-
I cannot read as
my father would
Recite stories
Swaying heavy lids
To sleep
Faraway Trees
Sharing the
Paths Paved of
Colonial fantasies
DIY dreamscapes
Instead
These skies
Gaze lovingly
Watching from afar
As we splash
Swimming between
These flags
Warm hues
Enveloped by journeys
Prior
Memories held
Hostage
Displaying those
Immortal
Smiling lines
Growing currawong
Feet and beaks
Eyelids wading
Each passing year
Aimless
Faces from
Sandpit epoch
Never quite
Holding shape of youth
Nor adulthood
Unaging
Voices
Live full time
Hosting the
Curated series
Top 20 on repeat
I don’t age
And neither does
Anyone around me
Blak queer purgatory
Never looked better
-
Waa stands
Present surveying
The empire
Of exhausted
Sun-bleached tanbark
Tenderly adorning
Morning sight
Impressive variety
Of unprocessed
Litter
Such small
Claws will
Only ever see
My face as old
Full wingspan
In shrill song
Scared of
Histories
Futures
Present
But in water
Fresh water
There is
A certain
Limitless expansion
Swaddled in
Adoration
And swearing
Promises
I can’t keep
Fated hours
Topics of debate
Deliberation
Flickering gazes
Eyes averted
Salt for cleansing
Inland for sustenance
Not a wound in
Sight, my love
Not in your skies
For in your
Cycle
I dream
Our wings
Never clipped
Soaring waters
Paddling sunsets
I dream
We are all there
All here
Together