NIMBY and the Supermoon 2018
The window by her pillow has the best job in the house:
it sneaks in day to kiss her awake to a tail-thumping heart.
Curtains slice a piece of sky, twig-flecked, let her taste
the creamy dawn shame it’s a #supermoontease.
She breaks open sleep-stuck, blackout linings. Her heart howls.
New houses, with scaffold ribs fatten on the fields.
Her hatred self-harms as the ‘stunning’ Wildflower estate
chews up trees and newts smirks at her terrace.
She is Sleeping Beauty. No sweet lips, just golden JCBs drilling
her mad. She goads the moon to flee prays for a spindle prick.
Helen Kay’s poems crop up in magazines. She was recently placed second in the Leeds Peace Prize, Wakefield Sanctuary and Welshpool competitions and commended in the Shelter and Festival of Firsts Competitions. She spends too much time on Facebook.