When I was a girl at school
I created other worlds.
I carried speakers across sand dunes to bring them to your party.
I wrote a letter to the Principal explaining why I didn’t want to be a prefect.
I stopped eating for a while.
I typed an essay about the words used by Eugenides, Winterson and Salinger.
I wore Puma Supersuedes to the dance.
I heard you knock at the door and I pretended not to be in.
I laughed out loud listening to recordings of Robert Frost reading his poems. Birches.
I wore a key around my neck.
I wasn’t ready.
I watched My So-Called Life and sighed.
My cat died and I cried while making cheese on toast.
I had flowery silk pyjamas. I miss them.
I read poetry by Bukowski and pulled out strands of hair.
I hid cigarette butts inside a soap dish.
I thought everyone was smarter than me.
I thought everyone was better than me.
I pushed my ear to the ground so I could hear.
I listened to Surfer Rosa. A lot.
I drank carryouts with my best friend.
I couldn’t tell you how I felt because I was forgetting how to feel.
I climbed in windows.
I wrote letters and posted them.
I didn’t think about what was on the outside.
I wanted to hide inside something.
I was figuring it all out. I still am.
I remember Robert Frost and carry outs and beautiful letters from Uni and your key and your letter to Mr Murphy! This is ace. xx