All the Women
all the women, all the women
of Texas flock towards it
(Hilda Sheehan, The Box of Books 1)
all the women, all the women
are inside me now
shouting that this is a fine day for it
that they needn’t have brought their brollies,
their rain faces, their fold up kagoules
whose voice is loudest I couldn’t tell you
I speak acorns and buttresses
I speak water lilies and doves
the day is a wedding
and shortly we will all climb with our brimming glasses
aboard a vintage double decker
but the women, the women
they are building their bakeries inside me
they are making baklava and baking exquisite cakes
they are replacing my blood with confectioner’s custard
and icing the insides of my breasts
and they are right it is a fine day for it
the sky is smiling widely showing its teeth of birds
no bombs are falling
we have 24 hour supermarkets and online shopping
and there are books, books galore on ebay and in libraries
we can pick them up and check them out
we can put them under our jumpers and take them home
but the women, the women
are camped on the edge of the deep dark pool
they are writing their epic poems on the inside of my skin
they are filling me up with shopping lists
chapters of novels, letters and bills
I am word confetti
I open my book beak and inadvertently sing
Julia Webb has an MA in Poetry from UEA. She is a poetry editor for Lighthouse and works as a creative writing tutor. Her first collection Bird Sisters was published by Nine Arches Press in 2016.