30 Poems in 30 Days – Poem #15

In Uncategorized on April 16, 2013 at 10:08 am

Poem #15

It is in a car when I’m nearing twenty that you talk of dance halls
and I remember once you were younger than I am now.

I could replace my local club with an Irish lane,
dirt roads and older brothers dropping you off at the top of them.

Before long, we both become a wave in a sea of flailing bodies.
I wish I knew how to waltz in a cocktail dress.

Maybe I can teach you generic drum and bass moves
after you whirl me around our static living room.

My era all seems so cheap, so of the moment,
I want black and white polaroid snaps not Instagram memories of nights I’d care to forget.

I have never been drunk in your presence,
we know how vodka strips skies of stars.

I wish you had once met me without knowing I was your daughter,
so I could see the brazen presence of youth in your walk.

I guess once you thought you would never age,
until it clamped your hips and broke your back.

Your spine is a line of memories,
vertebrates like rings around a tree’s bark.

I am starting to fear death,
starting to see blotted mistakes for stars.

I am starting to feel loss at the back of my throat when I wake,
like too much salt on seaside holidays.

And when the day bows to another sunrise,
it looks like a mother penguin regurgitating memories into the folds of night,

how did you hide all this from me before?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: