Three Poems
An Hour, Maybe Two
It's coming,
hurting things along the way.
It throttled Mrs Lanford's self-esteem,
and left her lodger, Nigel, with tortured thoughts.
Mr Kumar's dreams suddenly turned sour
and he closed his shop.
Rumour is he's torched it but I'm too afraid to look.
My next door neighbour, Sharon, killed her cat;
my own stays out of reach.
They warned us, but who'd have guessed at this?
Now the Helpline is no longer manned; the radio's white noise.
I wait, though waiting hurts.
Over Here
Where have you been?
I've been over there.
You've been over there?
Yes, I've been over there.
Have you come over here, now?
No.
Then why are you here?
I'm here to tell you I'm there.
So you're staying?
Yes.
Charlie's Art
Charlie in elephant trunk trousers
swapping his left eye for a light bulb.
Charlie filming a cat's shadow.
Charlie drinking ink, crying shapes onto a blotter.
Charlie with a see-through skull and mashed potato brain,
the Mona Lisa's smile where his sulk should be.
Charlie has a surfboard tongue!
Pastoral Chas is green in a suit made of chlorophyll.
Is that Charlie in a burka?
Charlie buys an image in the mirror.
Charlie calls it: Charlie Calling it Charlie.
Paul McDonald is Course Leader for Creative and Professional Writing at the University of Wolverhampton. His latest novel is, Do I Love You? (2008) and his latest collection of poetry is, Catch a Falling Tortoise (2007). www.tindalstreet.co.uk.