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Poem

Dada taught me cards.
Sitting in his suit of pants and vest.
A fistful of joker-red hair strewn across his brow.
His big belly like a cannon ball.

Poem

Dada has stories from Calcutta
wrapped up in his big belly.
When he belched they would unravel.

Poem

Your mother made me

write this

just in case, she said,

which kinda freaked me out,

so I said to her,

Da Man is fine, babe.

Poem

The walls of the room are white and clean -
all sign's of yesterdays sorrows scrubbed
away with bleach.

Give The Ball to the Poet
Poem

When they were young,
She kept wicket for her brothers,
They batted,
Bowled,
Padded up
And ratcheted up the score.
She crouched behind the stumps
Keeping wicket.

Red Cherry Red
Poem

I was born with a map of Australia on my face;
it was beautiful, my mother told me – 
there was nobody like me in the whole wide world
who could trace the edges of down under

Poem

This is my story.
It is mine alone because I am the one who needs
to tell it.
I am the one who is still here,
no longer stage right but

Poem

Toothless, she kisses
with fleshy lips
rounded, like mouth
of a bottle, all wet

She bruises your face
almost, with two
loving tree-root hands.

Jennifer Watson
Poem

My love is like a well-read book
which makes me smile each time I look.
It shouts and whispers, roars and sings
it grounds me and it gives me wings.