Day 99 – Smash Tea Kettle

You had that
smash tea kettle
you were
always breaking pieces off
and handing them to me

I strung them together
those pieces
I wore your
smash tea kettle pieces
round my neck

I loved it more
than any diamond
ever saw

I kept a piece
of your smash tea kettle
in my heart
it was the sharpness
that finally

cut me loose


Day 36 – The Difference

If you were ten
I’d be six;
if you were starting school
I’d be a baby,
if I was starting college
you’d be leaving it
and we’d have never met.

If you ask me,
it’s pretty lucky
that you were 29 drinking coffee
and I was 25 drinking tea;
that I wasn’t looking for a man like you
and you weren’t looking for me.

The difference was only
a teapot ready to boil-
two flowers ripe
to reach towards the sun,
the past laying ground
for one moment
when everything
was ready.

And the difference
doesn’t matter now,
we’re both 4 and 12 and 21,
reliving every stage again

Year 2: Day 147 – Whirlwind

One way
to play the game,
each day
always the same.

No wind
to stir the leaves
of stale contentment
in my tea.

I have needed a whirlwind
for a long, long time.
Things have been placid
for far too long.
It’s a shame, it’s a shame
when you look around
and see no chaos at all.

Someone new
can bring the storm
just once
for life to be reborn.

There are many ways
to play the game,
many ways
to bring the rain.

Day 350 – Poor Thing

‘Poor thing,’ they sneer,
‘poor thing, poor thing,
she’s a liar
and she doesn’t even know it.’

‘Poor thing, it’s a pity
’cause she’s lovely and a catch
when she isn’t prattling on
the way she does.’

‘Poor thing, she really thinks
that she even has a choice,
that she chooses to refrain
of her own will.’

‘But the poor thing doesn’t know
where all the good men go
when her confident decree
has them choking on their tea-‘

‘Poor thing,’ they sneer,
‘poor thing, poor thing,
she’s a liar
and she doesn’t even know it.’

Day 219 – Peppermint Tea And Dry Elbows

Peppermint tea
for the rest of my life-
some things I know for sure,
for sure,

and probably always dry elbows-
what I shall be, shall be.

We talk of malleability but
if I don’t color my hair
it’ll turn grey anyway

and what does that mean?

When I come out on the
other side of knowledge
I’ll have different shoes
and may prefer chamomile then

but probably always dry elbows;
what I shall be, shall be.

I will not speak the same way
when I am older with silver hair
and my elbows may grow soft

but peppermint tea
for the rest of my life-
what I shall be, shall be.

Day 49 – Sleepytime Tea

When all the world had come to rest
my turn was shared in peace
with you, always wrapping those elbows
around a little frame which made out like
the giggles were not for show.

When I was breathing soft and still
and sipping the calm of night,
I counted freckles and sorted them
by what was done today, and what
could be put off ’til tomorrow.

When I was peeking over a book
to catch you watching, to catch you knowing
and exhale from the deep parts
which went shallowly-filled
the hours a day that you were gone,

I wondered if someone else
would make a better bedtime-
I wonder it now, still.

For how many times did I spill my tea
wrestling blankets away from you?
When I was drifting off you were wide awake
so you must’ve seen it coming,
must’ve seen the steam rising.