It took two bus rides to get to Matlock.

Panda eyed from stress and tears,

sofa surfing for days on end,

dirty, tacky, no baths,

just a lick and a spit at a strange sink.

Sat in a faceless office,

corporate men in their three piece suits,

reeking of gout, and blue with smoke,

lascivious, avuncular, pat on the hand.

You are sitting on a goldmine, one smirks.

Find yourself a rich sugar daddy.

Janis Joplin sings Summertime in my head,

as the fluorescent tubes buzz in harmony.

Parents in absentia,

humiliation and fear sting,

all this to get an education,

no give and take – no grant.

Decades on – I got my education,

With two kids in tow,

all off my own back, not needing

honey traps or gold spider’s webs,

I look back – I want to say –

I pity your wives and daughters!

Did you…

Eyeing up the empty seat,

she sat next to me,

a sweet little old lady.

She drew a breath, and talked non-stop.

My daughter-in-law says I’m nasty,

I’m not, I’m just proud.

She tells me about her childhood,

the blitz bomb that blew her fat aunt into the air,

one foot above her fireside chair.

My daughter-in-law says I’m evil.

How dare she, I’m just particular!

She tells me of her Airedale dog,

although, untaught, he did great tricks,

he’d eat with the cats, and begs when he sits.

My daughter-in-law says I’m a       b-i-t-c-h.

I don’t like her much either.

She tells me of the girls and boys,

wartime friends, of climbing trees,

broken wrists, skinned arms, and knees.

My daughter-in-law says I’m cold and cruel.

I’m just stand offish.

Then she’s back in the present,

to the pigeon on the bird table.

Suddenly a Goshawk…

She wears her poetry in her hair,

and her bare stocking feet.

Blue nicotine stained nails

show her terminal habit;

cold cobalt bitten lips

where pen has split,

bleeds into her skin,

just as her words,

bleed through,

her muse.

© Kate 10.04.2014

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Photo courtesy of Photopin