RDW's poems

1- Briar Rose Asleep

Briar Rose, asleep, gets on the bus
to go to work
to take things from the shelves and put them back
and then to shop
to take what she just bought back to the shop
Not everything goes back – some things she adds
to the heap that fills her room

That fills three rooms
She cannot reach the bedroom anymore
and hops from kitchen door to kitchen sink
and cannot reach the fridge – it’s filled with ice
but hums in memory of when it was last used
a year ago, or more — after the water heater packed it i

The bathtub works
Ignore the bathroom ceiling falling down
it’s mostly down, so little danger there
the plaster pushed in corners
the broken mirror propped up on the sink

The mirror broke when the plaster on the wall came down
and brought the mirror with it
because of the leaking roof – which the landlord fixed
He doesn’t know about the ceiling or the walls
or the hot water (lack thereof)
or the piles waist high of everything she ever brought inside the door
for eighteen years

she’s hardly going to ask the landlord in
to shoulder barge the door
and swim the carrier bags, and hop the mounds
She’d face eviction – which she cannot face

All in all a busy way to sleep

The waist deep plastic bags keep suitors out
effectively as any thicket of thorns
she floats upon the sea of plastic bags
she still can reach the phone – and watch TV
and sleep in a sort of nest,
a spot hollowed out from the debris
and get some heat from a fire stuck on a board
on top of what was once the couch
now buried in the drifts of plastic bags

A dragon guards her, wears a swastika

Briar Rose – within thorn thicket – sleeps


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