Poem in Which

I describe ‘tulle’ and ‘chiffon’.
His eyes replace mine.
In which I walk with a paper bag of pears.
The wind laps at my ankles.
I covet the turquoise paisley dress.
I relent – as you wish, as you wish.
Poem in which I leave my flat to the sockless beatnik.
I have enamelled ears.
In which I visit The Empire of Tiny Dogs.
Poem with peeptoes.
In which there are splintering bones.
I chuck out all my undergarments.
Poem scented with galaxolide.
Old photographs graze memories.
In which I have an insatiable thirst.
Poem about pyjamas.
In which a man walks down Walworth Road in the rain, with two battered sausages (unwrapped).
Poem written on the joy/doom axis.
Love poem to a chandelier.
In which again your actions are foolish.
Poem to conceal some feelings in.
Where I drink champagne from a coal-dusted thimble.
Poem to avalanche your heart.

Amy Key