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This morning she got upOn the happy side of the bed,Pulled backThe grey sky-curtainsAnd poked her headThrough the blue windowOf heaven,
Tadpoles huddled in a pondafraid of the Carribean night,its intense darkness.
Candleflies moving about,lighting up and going out,lighting up and going out.
This is the kingdom of the Water Bear.
To enter here, you have to shrink
and slow down, down. A day
is one tick of the clock, one blink
Tell me, Mama,Where does the sun come fromin the morning?
Where does it go towhen it reaches the edge of the field?
I am a crocodile who lost my smile in the turbulent waters of the Nile.When I was very small, trapped inside my crocodile egg,
Which can be brushed out long and fineto lie across a pillowor bunched and scrunched into an angryknot of rain before it is undone, when long hanks of it hang
Teach me the language of Cat;the slow-motion blink, that crystal stare,a tight-lipped purr and a wide-mouthed hiss.Let me walk with a saunter, nose in the air.
The moon was married last nightand nobody saw,dressed up in her ghostly dressfor the summer ball.
When I was bornI was a familiar,a black cat, Satan’s favourite form.
Next life – I was in a roomyou couldn’t swing a cat in.Outside it was raining cats and dogs.
The seagulls think we live at the seaside:the tower blocks are their cliffs;they swoop for fish in the gutterbut are happy that it's last night's fried rice.