Poems
Box
When I snap I don’t snap
back. Creatures
we let loose to circle
the ceiling like harpies.
Guarded you from talons
with my soft back, but like cats
they raked shallow, left infections.
A box our house
locked off full of clawed Pandoras
Infinite regress of ills
that were / weren’t our fault
/ though I blamed us /
I’m difficult around verbs.
What sort of ‘doing word’
undoes us so easily?
Rifled bottles and cartons
smashed up the packaging
glass-bottomed, deep-sea distorted.
Bristled through the weeks til
what was left in the box
wrinkled up to meet us.
Corner of cardboard
shabby and ecstatic.
Floorboards
for Franky
They were newly sealed
we placed planks on bricks
from kitchen to lounge
for each tacky journey.
Shuffled giggly kid greetings
he bounced long and corduroy
warped almost to the floor.
Lanky pale arms trapped hands
dangled me across to a bowed board
prickly beard smacked a kiss on my knuckles.
I squealed! Pretended to run
the lovely danger
of being upside down and swung.
If I had a talent for divination
crystal ball/forked stick/pack of cards
I would have trapped that
away from sunlight
faded and reaching across varnish.