I’m easily awkward.
Clumsy
elbows in doorframes
I
can fall over from a standing start.
I
pull my temper
like
colourful scarves
endlessly
from clownish sleeves.
Impressive.
And
Friday after work
I
carry my wine bottle
like
a bludgeon.
Never
give a sword to one who can’t dance.
Sometimes
I smell of washing
left
too long alone.
But
I’m no hit mallard
no
twist of neck and feathers
I
heal up just fine.
Pink skin blinking beneath a swift dry lid.
Credit note: "A secret I don't mind you knowing" is included in Saradha Koirala's new poetry collection Tear Water Tea and is reproduced here by permission of the author.
Tim says: This elusive yet self-possessed poem showcases the tantalising word choices and economy of utterance I enjoy so much about Saradha Koirala's poetry. You can find out lost more about Saradha and her work in my interview with her, which I'll posting later this week. (I also recommend Saradha's poem Tika, and the following in-depth examination of Saradha's work by Harvey Molloy.)
The Tuesday Poem: Is leaving on the midnight train to Tbilisi.
2 comments:
Some wonderfully original images in this poem. The idea of pulling one's temper out of one's sleeves as a magician pulls forth colourful scarves. And then the ending which has a kind of twist in it for me. As if the writer acknowledges having displayed vulnerability and then denies it by being vulnerable.
'But I’m no hit mallard
no twist of neck and feathers
I heal up just fine.
Pink skin blinking beneath a swift dry lid.'
Thank you Helen for your lovely comment. I'm so glad you like the poem :)
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