I’ve got a poem half written
like I’ve got a new lover
and I don’t want to say who he is
yet.
Wherever it is, the poem is the centre
of the room. All the time
I am making the bed, going for a jog,
taking a shower,
the poem rings.
Can it wait? What’ll I say?
A thin flame runs up my legs.
On the bus I think of other poems.
Now I have six half-written.
I am a slut
with petrol in my hair.
*
Rachel McAlpine
I absolutely love this. The poem wakes us up in the middle of the night. My knitting does that, too. I am also a loose woman with my poems and my knitting – keeping many at once. What minxes we are! Wonderful poem!
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So you get it absolutely. Yay!
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Absolutely!
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Oh my goodness, you totally captured it! Exactly what happens. The sensuality full on. You had me, to paraphrase that famous movie line, at lover.
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