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Sandra Tappenden

 

it is scary and beautiful to be happy

this morning I cried for the dead boy
who needed a new spleen and lung
then  I got out of bed
entered a new day of unexpectation

pitied the rage of the young
their negation abjection frozen imagination
media –culled and culturally misbegotten
it’s not their fault

we refused to see this coming
the littleness of being being refused
yet my brain’s filled with serotonin rainbows
I notice things and play the clarinet

I haven’t played the clarinet for years
if my legs worked better I`d dance
what thwarts the self is really nothing
I guess I’m lucky I guess

 

 

King of the Café

The chair is a bit too tall.
I haul him up onto the seat by the back of his pants.
We share a slice of blueberry and banana cake.
He sips steamed milk through a metal straw
then uses it as a froth scoop which leaves
a tide line round his mouth that chews on words:
cake milk more straw door.
Outside the wind is buffeting
and rain squalls dash upon the panes.
He points and nods. His default setting is Yes.
Everybody falls in love with him.

 


In the Charity Shop

The French chap is in a giddy mood and I am full of vim.  He appropriates a toy crossbow and I ask was ist das. He replies in Spanish. Winks. I explain teasing. He says ah yes it is like a trailer for a film. And I say oh? No. But yes in French a tease is a film trailer and we laugh. Then he shoots ‘Stephen Fry in America’ with the foam bolt from the crossbow while I ask what is the French for doodah or thingamajig something you’ve no idea what it`s for and he says bidule though it sounds improbable.

He brings me a mug of tea which bears the legend Are You Normal? because I measure curtains against my body although I once knew someone who measured trousers round their neck but it’s too hard to explain.

He has bleached his hair for a friend with cancer and found a used condom in the pocket of donated coat. He say it is wyndy outside o my god and I ask him to shoot me in the back but that’s too much.
I will miss him when he goes back home to practise law.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Copyright © Sandra Tappenden, 2019