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Writer's pictureLippy

MAGPIE BOY

i was going to call this poem ‘never fall for a narcissist’ but i thought that would be a bit discriminatory. never say never.



i think the back deck of my mind is where you live now

smoking a cigarette and humming peace

in the hope of finding some yourself


sometimes i pass by

to tell you of all i’ve seen

pixies and fireflies and candyfloss skies

or i talk of nonsensical things

pumpkins, oysters and paper rings


but you always drown me out with

fantasies of silver and spice and

all things nice


dripping glitter and gold from those lips that

only ever told



half truths



i hope you know that

you could lasoo me the moon

but it is only really a shrivelled balloon


and even if you tried for the stars

you would only find silver spoons

for peanut butter jars

or cigarette butts still half lit

from an angel’s quick hit

that even glass can look like silver

when the light hits right


because her hair doesn’t sparkle

from anything but shampoo

and glitter is just pieces of plastic

choking up our oceans too


and even the far-off fairy lights caught in time

is really just the big tesco sign


one for sorrow

two for


the magpie chases the silver

but what chases the magpie?

not i mr magpie

not i

one for sorrow

two for

i will not chase what cannot be caught.





 

Words: Julia Brookes

Photo credit: Julia Brookes

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