skin
this skin has started
to fray
reveals a torn elbow
a tattered knee
a body stitched up
too many times.
I tug at stray threads loose buttons
watch my days unravel.
this is a poor material
to work with
the weave all wrong
a coat grown thin
and faded
a patchwork blanket.
I wait for the scars
to harden
a fresh skin to emerge
pink, beautiful
become new, grow
from the inside out
but I have slid
from silk to denim
become a worn fabric
that cannot be shed
there is a wound
that doesn’t close
a bruise that never heals
when the night is cold
I am a cheap cloth
that will not mend
Ken Cathers as a B.A. from the University of Victoria and a M.A. from York University
in Toronto. He has just published his eighth book of poetry entitled Home Town with
Impspired Press in England. He has also recently published two chapbooks, one
entitled Kiefer by broke press and the other entitled Legoland Noir by Block Party
Press. His work has appeared in publications from Canada, the United States, Australia,
Ireland, England, India ,the Netherlands, Hong Kong and Africa. Some of his recent
work has appeared in Plato’s Cave, The McGuffin, Acta Victoriana, Zoetic Press, The
Carried Away, Wild Words and The Blue Unicorn. He lives on Vancouver Island with
his family in a small colony of trees.
this skin has started
to fray
reveals a torn elbow
a tattered knee
a body stitched up
too many times.
I tug at stray threads loose buttons
watch my days unravel.
this is a poor material
to work with
the weave all wrong
a coat grown thin
and faded
a patchwork blanket.
I wait for the scars
to harden
a fresh skin to emerge
pink, beautiful
become new, grow
from the inside out
but I have slid
from silk to denim
become a worn fabric
that cannot be shed
there is a wound
that doesn’t close
a bruise that never heals
when the night is cold
I am a cheap cloth
that will not mend
Comments
Post a Comment