Tuesday 5 November 2013

1 Poem by Susan Adams


How long do we play croquet on the lawn
with hearts rolled into balls?
You count your victories
by the bandaids on my eyes
if only I'd known I would have used the pain
to paint the boundaries between us.

You grease your teeth so tongue can slide
my plated trust served waiting
for your attention to be sprinkled
like seasoning.
But the taste is a toxin.
I fall into Alice's tunnel
above you wear revenge on each green fingernail
& I never knew how very little I meant to you.

Jealousies wrapped in years of silver paper
were emboli to my senses.
The ritual of practise, lethal.


Susan Adams, PhD is an Sydney poet published in nine countries.  She was awarded 'commended' in the 2012 O'Donoghue International Poetry Competition (Ire), Highly Commended in the Val Vallis Award 2012 and Highly Commended in the Adrien Abbott Poetry Prize. She has been read numerously on ABC Radio National. Recent publications include Quadrant, Westerly, Southerly, Eureka Street, Hecate, Social Alternatives, Cordite, Visible Ink, FourW.

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