Monday, 10 July 2017

2 poems by Anna Saunders

The Naturalist On Valentine’s Day


The rose stands in the thin vase,
its stem is like a amputated tail
cocooned
in a fluid reserve.

Go and apologise to the trees
for what we have done.
Lopped them down for lumber
crushed their pulp for cards.

When you reach into the split bark
there is a faint pulse.

This one must be a hundred years old
it wears a heavy necklace of stalky green.

That one looks like Ted Hughes
impossibly lofty, swarthy,
with thick arms.

Later, lying in bed alone
you hear the rasping screech of the owl

the scream of something
that flies all night, exhilarated
by the dark, yet terrified
of its own appetite.









Anna Saunders is the author of Communion, (Wild Conversations Press), Struck, (Pindrop Press), Kissing the She Bear, (Wild Conversations Press), Burne Jones and the Fox (Indigo Dreams).

Anna has had poems published in journals and anthologies which include Ambit, The North, Amaryllis, Iota, Caduceus, Envoi, New Walk Magazine, The Interpreters House, The Wenlock Anthology 2014, The Museum of Light, Accente magazine and the forthcoming Diamond Cutters Anthology ( Random House),

Anna holds a Masters in Creative and Critical Writing from The University of Gloucestershire and is the CEO and founder of Cheltenham Poetry Festival.




-----
First published 08/01/2014


After Dinner

Someone switches on the light
and we float like life buoys
in the black lake of the glass.

How ebullient we are
with sugar rush,

bone plucked by indolence
jelly fish blooms
quivering on the floor.

You are slick as a host
your liniment smooth hand
flush with mine.
Your voice planed to a polish.

Stories ascend from your lips
of Tina, who came home to a husband
crotch bulging in Victoria's Secret

and Mary
waiting to have her sister
removed from her womb.

30 years old with her sister
hidden inside her
like a layer of a Russian Doll.

Inert and stunted,
only 8 inches long.

Replete with hair and teeth
Adult Teeth.

Another guest snorts,
Hairy Mary he says,
Bucks his teeth out,
makes like a rabbit.

We are still laughing
as Mary enters the room.
Imagine if that were your sister,
she says.

I look away.
In the black glass
my reflection bobs
like a bloated corpse.




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