MAGGIE SAWKINS

Brass Monkeys
 

My mother’s dusters flap –
tiny yellow sails above the cabbages.
Inside everything sparkles

like a wedding ring dipped in vinegar.
Ginger cat hairs, angel cake crumbs
the family’s fingernails banished into thin air.

Bring in the washing!
Next door’s mongrel’s on the loose.
Pegs are flying.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Fetch the broom!
Too late. The tail of Dad’s shirt’s
wrapped round its rubbery tongue.

What’s skin made of?
I’m staring into the pink ear
of my baby rabbit.

Before anyone can answer
it’s leapt from my lap
into a wigwam of sweet peas.

Faster than a blue-arsed fly,
she told Dad later
over Vesta chop suey and rice.

It’s not fair, just as the princess falls
in love with the genie, I’m packed off to bed.
Neither is a black man’s bum, says Dad

as he tucks me up in stiff white sheets.
All night the drone of voices drifts through
the floorboards stinging my ears like bees.

Alina Roxana Chirila

Maggie Sawkins
 

Maimute de alama

Carpele de praf ale mamei flutura –
mici panze galbene deasupra verzei.
Inauntru totul straluceste

ca o verigheta scufundata in otet.
Fire de par de pisica roscata, firimituri de prajitura,
In aer zboara unghii taiate.

Adu rufele!
Potaia vecinilor este libera.
Carlige de rufe zboara prin aer.

Doamne Dumnezeule! Aduceti matura!
Prea tarziu. Poala camasii lui tati
este incolacita in jurul limbii lui ca de cauciuc.

Din ce e facuta pielea?
Ma holbez in urechea roz
a iepurasului meu.

Inainte ca cineva sa-mi raspunda
a zburat din poala mea
intr-o gramajoara de mazare.

Mai rapid decat o musca cu fundul albastrui,
i-a spus ea lui tata mai tarziu
cand mancau tocatura Vesta si orez.

Nu-i drept, tocmai cand printesa se indragosteste
de capcaun, eu sunt trimis la culcare.
Nici spatele unui cocosat nu e, zice tata

in timp ce ma inveleste in cearsafuri albe apretate.
Zumzaitul vocilor se strecoara prin podele
toata noaptea, intepandu-mi urechile precum albinele.