The way the grey-green water
settles into the hollow and
swivels in the socket.
The way the green diminishes
and grey thickens and winces
as the wind crams the clouds across the bay.
And how your eyes flick and
heal so quickly after
the harbour darkens above me.
*
Rachel McAlpine
You have cat’s eyes
and they glow in the daytime
flashing go and go and go.
Come to me and I’ll melt
the glass, turn off the light
and lie on pussy willow.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Goblins knock on the door
in disguise (says Ruby). Get them
to take off their clothes.
If they say no,
they’re baddies.
To get them destructed,
take off their clothes.
Then call the police.
Then fight them.
(You know this isn’t real.
It’s just in case,
to save the day.)
If a zombie comes up the toilet
you can whisk off and fight it,
because you know the steps.
Put some Barbie dolls in a row
because zombies hate Barbie dolls.
They’re afraid they’ll chomp them.
You can also shine a light at zombies.
It injects them
and they die.
*
Rachel McAlpine
From a story told by Ruby, aged 4 or 5 or 6
I love you nervously.
The neighbours know.
Are we manageable?
Can you say that word?
Are we even valid?
I love you mostly with
a careful paranoia and
at times a kind of folly.
There are laws, you know.
I think we ought to whisper.
You have overstayed.
You are one too many.
*
Rachel McAlpine
A sandwich by moonlight
is not enough.
You need speckled linen shirts.
You need a bolt of lightning.
You need to jump on a fault line
very soon.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Now’s your once
in a lifetime chance.
Take a stroll
around my soul.
Hands off the software,
please.
*
Rachel McAlpine
I’m trying to forget
my cell phone got wet.
It’s a goner, I bet
but I won’t think about that
yet.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Baby skin has pleats
but never a seam.
Where to stop with the face cream?
Where to stop with the knife?
Where to stop with the Botox?
Where to start with the life?
*
Rachel McAlpine
‘You look young.
For your age, that is.’
That’s cool?
Worship my wrinkles,
you fool.
*
Rachel McAlpine
In a no-paper dream
not a friend
not a team
you watch me ripping
my linen.
I forget your name
so I say ‘mushroom.’
I forget my synonym
for 3 a.m.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Poems in the wild—Rachel McAlpine 