Levitating
In your house,
Newfoundlands like black clouds
thundered across bald floors
etched with pentagrams.
Through beaded fly curtains
there were guitars and drum kits,
you found Alanis before I did
and showed me the broken
boyfriends and biscuits
at the bottom of your older sister’s bed.
Your room was a box of songs;
I removed the lid
and had a snoop at the words,
the shabby chipboard walls
hidden by tie-dye and cosmic tat.
All the village-shaped kids laughed
when you ate a dog biscuit,
dragged a barrow round
selling weed posies for two pence
and levitated:
barefoot in culottes and a band T-shirt.
Sarah Sibley is a freelance writer and editor based in Suffolk. Most recently, she was a chosen young broadsheet poet in Agenda ‘Exiles’. Elsewhere, she has been published in Orbis, Obsessed with Pipework, The Interpreter’s House and The Delinquent. She has an MA in Creative Writing from Lancaster University.
Note: This poem was originally published in Obsessed with Pipework, Issue 56, Autumn 2011