Six poems by Leilanie Stewart for the sixth of March

It has been a while since I’ve published any poetry. Just because I feel like it (why else does anyone do anything, right?) I have decided to publish six poems for the sixth of March. These are a random bunch, no theme, no connection. So, here goes:

1. Living for the moment

Sitting here
in a moment of shut-down
no longer in self-pity that I have the flu
but simply stationary
not even reflective,
sitting,
looking at the picture
of blue roses and skulls
and picking a spot
wondering,
why on earth the woman outside
would chain smoke when she has that nasty cough
and thinking,
why aren’t there any birds singing
in the trees outside?

Don’t tell me winter is on its way
already
I need to fuel this blissful delusion
for only a few more days
only…

2. Don’t wash that chicken, lickin’

Campylobacter
is not a holiday park
where you can take the kids
for an adventure weekend

Only an idiot
would soap up that chicken
to wash away
the fingerprints
of the farmer.

3. I hope

I hope
the maggots
have had four generations
of flies off his bones.

4. A sternly worded letter to God

Why
the hell
did you make
a woman’s damn urethra
two fucking centimetres long?

5. The Art Student

One of them
has no make-up on
the other wears
the war-paint in force
one wears only jeans
and scruffy trainers
the other is dolled
up to the nines
one wouldn’t be
out of place in Tesco
the other is in
her nightclub best
one is an artist
but which one really
is the blank canvas?

6. Friendship for the cynical

It might look like
the biggest gold nugget
you’ve ever clapped eyes on
but in actual fact
it’s an aluminium sphere
that’s been painted with a copper tint
and is hollow on the inside.