My Poems

 

 

My boots

are sensible, designed
for keeping my feet dry in wet weather
don't have high heels
don't hug my calves, or slide up to my thighs
like lovers' hands
don't leave me tottering
aren't sexy black leather (they're brown, if you must know)
have never won me a whistle
or a compliment
these are not boots to wear
on the hunt for men (not that I'm a huntress)
they're everyday boots
sensible boots

boring

 

Flower

a single flower dies
but her memory lasts the season
and her children rekindle a magic
the following spring

*

follow the trail of these flowers
bruised by the feet of the one
whose path they were - their broken stems
anticipate her loss

*

poor flower, you've died
for a moment, or less than a moment
for a whim that to you was all love
for a careless footfall

*

I was the girl who killed you
and now I am dying too
for a whim, and there'll be no rekindling
a single flower dies

 

Touched

when you touched my breast I was shocked
& flinched as taboos I'd been carefully
filled up with since birth all shrieked
at once like outraged maiden aunts you
pulled away ran away turned red it will
be a long time mister before you try that
one again a great pity the rest of me
liked your touch a lot and wishes
those taboos to hell and you to touch
me again (and again and again)

when you touched my breast I was shocked
& flinched as taboos I'd been carefully
filled up with since birth all shrieked
at once like outraged maiden aunts you
pulled away ran away turned red it will
be a long time miss before you try that
one again a great pity the rest of me
liked your touch a lot and wishes
those taboos to hell and you to touch
me again (and again and again)

 

Vegetable Love

slower than a slug's progress through a leaf,
and more destructive

give me the eyesight of a carrot
the resilience of a potato
the selflessness of peas in a pod
the patience of Brussel's sprouts
something of the strangeness of swedes
and a touch of the cucumber
the aubergine's swollen generosity
and the guilt of the radish

Now, I can love you like a vast cabbage
growing unchecked, unobserved, behind the rubbish dump

 


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