Union
This marriage was not meant to happen,
too hasty, driven by needing to make
everything right. Late night urge to clean
my grandmother’s saucepans, to rekindle
how it was to be hearthside with her.
Too keen and desperate, now look at the mess
I am in, finger snared, and the pull to release
only sinks the bite further, taught wire slicing through
flesh, like that old cheese cutter, with a wooden mouse.
Later, spiral lines of severed skin, almost bone deep,
and I remember, from somewhere deep within,
that piano wire is the perfect murder weapon.
Alison Jones’ work has been widely published in journals such Poetry Ireland Review, Proletarian Poetry, The Interpreter’s House, The Green Parent Magazine and The Guardian. Her pamphlets, Heartwood (2018) and Omega (2020) were published by Indigo Dreams. She is working on a full collection.