Inadequate at full Tilt
after Kerri Shying #3 no understanding comes to us like rain
I might have opened that heavy door
ten times or less when I was younger
and here I am again
lured by the rabbit hole
the peculiar smell
brisket perhaps and linoleum
cut glass with no flowers
no one cooks brisket anymore
not that I’d know
anything about meat
she certainly doesn’t, lipstick stains still
edging the cups, gathering dust
in the cupboard
it never stopped raining then
gunmetal lips
feet wet in ankle-breaking platforms
but still short
still inadequate
even when the sun shone
my smile was a mask
for breathlessness
later became habit became
asthma became a triumph of the
prefrontal cortex
under duress
and here again
past midnight
recognising all the faces
in the photos, those pallid smiles
the waxy smell that remained
the endless face-stinging rain
oh those heels, and that rain, the cold stings of wet bees....
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