Weekend Poetry: Five Poems

Weight in One’s Vagina

I ain’t no virgin

Past child-bearing prime

Gots any val- worth any val- worth worth wait

-ing for?

Wait for it!

 

O! be some other woman

What’s in a woman

That which we call a woman

By any other name would taste as sweet

So woman would, were womb not woman called

 

They call her mellow yellow

That’s right, Oh, little China girl

Like a bull in a shop I

wreck my

beat my

crash my

China doll

Tragic like thunder

Sh-sh-shhh

Sh-sh-shhh  

 

Beach Bum Bang No.1

A man on a mission from

Australiah

Brown skinned, white tongued

Neck beaded

Spectacled

Wounded, poor thing

Poor military man with a white

wide smile

Strong at the time and

young

Smooth from mixed bloods and

smiles

Gracie bled

She’d washed her feet of sand

Climbed into bed and let him

Not pain exactly, nor fun, and not near Oh, O!, ORGASM but

but but it’s nice to leave sometimes

Where do we go to from our bodies out of bodies past edges

Where do we go to shout (do we ever get to shout)

Where is that finger or two or three how

how

yellow Gracie bleeds brown skinned white man

Australiah. One of those

countries

Who was where there first

He said

Sweet lamb

Small ones sit at his feet

Great Teacher

Comb his hair

Dote

He put his arm around her three times

At the table, at the lift, on the bus

 

And the sun brings out all the girls and flowers

And the bees wanna get in

                                               thud of bodies

because of

me

 

Hardass Street, the friendliest gym in town

Jonny said to Gracie, Forgive yourself let go and live well and what is more important than your

peace and happiness and

Gracie kept stretching out her hamstrings on the sweaty mat

Leather smacking sounds and that guy who keeps singing and 90s R&B hits on the stereo-o-o

And an endless stream of tears for who exactly?

10am on a Friday in a boxing gym on Hardass Street, no shit

Car body work going on outside, the last time she walked past a man was on his back, howling, I

can’t feel it, Mikey, I can’t feel my arm and

Cranes and diggers prepping ground for new flats next door and it was earlier, then

Do ALL her friends want to get in Gracie’s pants? That’s some story

Is Gracie to blame for her parents’ love crash?

Jonny said to Gracie, Think about it it’s not real and

she looked up at his big black body and thought about her

own

kept stretching

streaming

a puddle of lost salt

Kayla said to Gracie, Be your own kind of awesome

Oprah said to Gracie, Let’s meditate!

Who said, A cloud doesn’t worry about being a cloud and it is part of everything and it does

things when it's the right time and

Gracie sweet Gracie

kept stretching

kept fearing the man on the street in Brixton on his back, howling

the woman who didn’t say hi at yoga

the lorry-driver in Penang who sped round corners and blared his horn at short skirts

the dark skinned coolie

Jonny said to Gracie, we’re not allowed to have tea in the cafe any more, management doesn’t

like it, doesn’t like

- people talking -

IT

and as soon as Gracie left, she couldn’t recall a thing

 

What’s more important more important

than tomatoes turning red

more important than what that Jonboy said

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