Becky is beautiful
but kind and cruel,
Her eyes flash when I call her a vamp,
and when I bad mouth her boyfriend.
“You make me laugh,” she says, “can I kill you?”
She has the hair of a teenage friend,
the eyes of an old love, the profile and
features of a desirable aunt, the body of
the goddess Parvati, and a smile like paradise.
Her mischief resembles that of a childhood adversary.
“I’m going to turn you into an ass,” she smiles.
Her hoot face is reserved for her most cunning lies,
“I thought I’d see you there,” yet she still
succeeds in soothing the situation.
‘Does she really sleep with him?’
“I’m sorry about your Grandad,”
she says, like Mum at such times.
Warmth floods the room…
Regardless of content, our most intense moments have a habit of assuming ritual clarity.
Together, the figures our characters cut are colourful, and bright, and amusing;
the wheel-spinning white car which your mother read about in my story, or Roma’s amber earrings, Louise and Paula, uncharacteristically, dressed in black.
who plays football,
and for whom love… is too painful?
Did I really say that?
She wants to travel, or that?
‘Me too! ’/ ‘that’s how I drink’/ ‘I do.
If only it,
mimicking my mudra,
and Mimi’s mint.
When Gramps turned up wearing
Nancy’s gold ring,
Jenny thought it was a hoot.
Her hoot face is for the moment still.
It possesses a distant smile.
Intuition: ‘just like Becky’s hoot face.’
Old, ‘Bone White’
lived in the ‘Stone Sure’ Hills,
but he didn’t live there alone…