poem – Page 5 – Bryn Bamber

babies

do I want them?
or do I want my free bird life?

flitting from interest
to delight
to out late again

babies
bring out a side of me
unseen.

comes only
at midnight

dead on the road
smell
seeps
into the car.

and why is it that we are sadder when we see a dead cat?

skunks
look at his eye lashes!
they’re so beautiful!

I try to tell him to stay back
too late.

I hate it
so desperately
that I will eat a gross dried up sandwich from Tim Hortons
to avoid trying something
new.

comfort
avoid change at all cost

I end up
alone
under the covers
again.

sticky
goopey
sweet
deliciousness.

I love how you stick to the roof of my mouth
to the sides of my cheeks
coated and tangy

marmalade,
you make me feel alive.

a dopey grin
as you enter the room
tail wagging
dancing

nothing but you
matters.

Said the world was not flat
and caused an outrage.

And now we are outraged
by women wearing niqabs
taking the citizenship oath

They don’t belong in a country based on freedom
and the world
is
flat.

Oh my!

We are on a boat,
making our way from island to island.

Ron drives
and we relax in the sunshine.

Coffee and beer
my aunts ask me about my new boyfriend.

I lean back against the hull
and look
at the sky.

my body softens
shoulders relaxing
breath expanding
safe.

After three days in the desert,
the smell of the lake hits me,
and I realize
how tense
I was.

Freedom
exists
at the side
of the lake.

glistening
in the sun

sparkling
delicate
suspended in the air

free.

until the fly flies
into the trap

trapped to death.