Silver Streams Issue 1 | Page 13

13

Drama Games

We were animals once,

in a drama game. A cat slinked,

sensuous, round our legs; a chicken jerked

her beak, pecked us with sharp words.

You’d say you’re a rabbit, caught

in headlights, not knowing which way to turn.

But I see a snake. Eyes darting, furtive, venom

dripping from your tongue. Predator. Not prey.

We acted appliances, too. A microwave

warmed me from inside out; a radio –

each song a novelty at first, till someone

else’s favourites played on endless repeat.

You were all those things. But right now,

I think you’re a kettle: stainless

steel exterior, holding liquid

in, while coming to the boil inside.

And today I’m the bin –

lid pushed down, stuffed with plastic

wrappers – waiting, in the corner,

for whatever crap you throw. And I’m also

the broken light bulb over the cooker,

that makes it hard to see the food I’m stirring

and the cobwebs over the extraction hood

that are building up dust again.

- Mel White

X

“Sweet dreams x”

What is this overwhelming warmth?

This warmth that engulfs my chest

upon seeing this letter X.

How can such a letter carry such warmth?

I can’t contain the smile,

A somewhat smug one at that.

This warmth and smile I have yearned for,

simply achieved by receiving the letter X.

- Jack White

X

“Sweet dreams x”

What is this overwhelming warmth?

This warmth that engulfs my chest

upon seeing this letter X.

How can such a letter carry such warmth?

I can’t contain the smile,

A somewhat smug one at that.

This warmth and smile I have yearned for,

simply achieved by receiving the letter X.