You push with palms flat to my skin,

and it stings.


You push till my heels meet an edge,

and I think to step on air.


You push with the cruelness

of a lightning strike.


But, in that final second, I step aside.


And it is you who descends into the chasm,

dumbfounded, and scratching the air at my feet.


Tiger Daughter

my daughter is a trusting canary

outside she whispers

lullabies to the moonlight

her eyes unblinking

innocent as angel-shaped snow


my daughter is an intuitive butterfly

remodelling herself inside

each commercial trend

her eyes glossy

inquisitive as unsettled dust


my daughter is a puissant tigress

cleaning – petting – chiding

her charges of tomorrow

her eyes alert

mindful as reclaimed air


in an eon I will not see


my daughter is a supernova

bursting the barriers of the body

into a space where inequality

is an antiquated myth

her eyes warmed

sated as windowless sunlight


Let us slide

along our highway


An invisible passage crossed

whenever a song plays

in the car, shops or home

reminding me — of you —

Would you like to say thank you to my husband?

He does a decent job you know

most nights in the kitchen

The dishes are his masterpiece

we’re not to interfere with


When the mission is accomplished

he grapples with the plug

sets himself down on the lounge with

I’ve finished the dishes

Followed by an expected congratulatory pause


But wait

it doesn’t stop there

On his day off last week

I received a call at work

from you know who

The vacuuming is done

and he’d even dusted the decking!


Would he like the job fulltime?

Along with his real job too

but forget about the thank yous

A bunch of red roses at Christmas will do