Poems by Claire Aherne
I
whatyouwant
light slowly prisming
thru my town
i go home
there is no
word for this, i am just about
to be born, hold on
i have told u this as long as always, and
always will –
there is nowhere
to meet me, we pass, flies
to lamps, lamps
to rosy memoir, and are gone
travelling the
width, the glowing belly
we float on
only fireflies
II
Finding underwear
That is not mine, looking at
It blankly, forget
Easier to be
Blind and deaf, than choosing to
Discard eyes and ears
I am but a blunt
Knife, couldn’t kill myself if
I so wanted to
That cloud looks like a
Mushroom. That cloud looks like a
Bedroom. That cloud looks
Beautiful – were I
To stop crying, like a small
Baby cloud myself