Day 4...Living with the painting

 Living with the painting

After denise levertov


If you had bothered to drill a hole in the wall

And put in this a nail and in the nail

From the nail hang the painting

This would be a different poem


You didn’t

Swore the walls would irrevocably crack

No wonder people were speculating

I could have done it myself

But was wary of the power tools

With my long bloody hair


I can’t stress enough how

The picture’s an original

My mother painted it

And in it, caught

And tipped now, so they

Dig in their brogued feet to stand]

Those nuns with faces indistinct

Stood on the dark beach

Controlling  familiars in the guise of kites


It is face down to the bedroom wall

And I can feel it raging with its storm

Turning away from me

I’m sorry mum I’m sorry

I’m not sure if looking would help me 

remember you more

but know each night I sleep

with a world of storm

screaming in bubble wrap 

in the universe of cupboard


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