YOU MISTAKE YOURSELF FOR A LUNA CORONA
Halos beam around my face
like oncoming headlights.
I stop a stream of traffic in Manitoba,
drivers spill onto the road
clutching their phones and cameras,
they point their lenses to the glowering sky.
It’s the rainbows they’re after –
where the light bends around drops of ice.
They will print out their shots
then hang me in their front windows
for children to point at as they pass by
on their daily walks, dawdling.
YOU MISTAKE YOURSELF FOR A BANANA ON THE SHELF AT BUDGENS
We’ve no choice but to curve together,
my bunch at a safe distance from the next.
Displayed at six in the morning, by eight-thirty I’m sold.
Packed in a bag with the last pack of wholewheat pasta,
a box of in-date free-range eggs, a pot of no-fat yogurt.
I jostle for space with tins of sweetcorn
and a bag of carrots made opaque with a photo of carrots.
She drives smoothly until hitting a sleeping policeman,
forgets to wear gloves to unpack,
holds me under a cold tap lowering
her allostatic load. I lie in the beechwood fruit bowl
practising mindfulness meditation,
expressing gratitude for my safe passage
from Costa Rica.
She mostly eats one with breakfast, another
when face-timing a friend.
I’m the last one left in the bowl,
the blotches join up on my skin,
my yellow shrinks
to the shape of a daisy petal.
I wait and wait to be picked.
The sounds of the house
slowly fade away.
YOU MISTAKE YOURSELF FOR AN ALLOTMENT
My plum and cherry blossom are profound,
I will try to manage more than one single cherry this year.
As for those moths which get inside your plums –
you can get some sort of pheromone trap. They’re green.
You’ve left the lemon yellow flowers on last year’s
black kale for long enough.
The cardoon which used to flourish from
underneath the corner of the shed has barely sprouted.
Remember last year you planted purple beans
too soon – they shivered to a shrivel.
I like the way you leave the aquilegias
wherever they may grow.
There’s hope of purple broad beans,
maroon tomatoes, custard yellow courgettes,
an orange squash streaked with green –
which should be very sweet.
You could try again with aubergines.
This is the only future you can grow.