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Excerpt from 'Spirograph'

A collection of poetry by Pauline Sewards



How do you shift Depression?


You turn it into concrete

and chisel its face slowly.


You name all of its parts,

sadness

grief

envy

rage

shame,


and own them as you own your hair

or your fingernails

or the dance you make through the world.


You sit by the water and listen.

Suspend disbelief

like a tightrope to tiptoe your dreams.


You breathe

until your heart is open

those simple things

no one taught you.



 


Spark Boy


tells narratives in an onion skin

knew a highway

salt-scoured and lit white

he was a Steiff bear

button in ear authentic

his new skin

soft as kid leather unmarked

unremarkable

he wore his shadow side

as a skull ring

his scars like priceless trash

he is so young

and will stay young

begging for charity and clarity

leaves to dodge

where night is a lurch church of bruises

warns

the West End is a fish tank

of iPhones and iPads and iPockets





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