I’m strutting: stratospheric,

embellished and splendid

in my NHS wedding dress.

My mother was here before me,

her father before her, his uncle

before that, lucky lucky me.

Our platinum gilted heirloom hops generations and genders,

our gene pool a puddle of madness

thickened with blood and tear-streaked shrieking saliva.

I’m in my unsilent season,

souped up and bursting,

far too sexy

to sedate. This is my circus

and I am the airborne acrobat

defying my earthly anchors

until they come for me,


First published on Poethead, June 2017.

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