We can't get you out of our heads & Key to a kingdom
by Emma Lee
[ poetry - june 11 ]
We can’t get you out of our heads
The Ramsey Street teenager morphed
into pop diva as we too reinvented
ourselves, butterflying into business,
trying out new relationships,
flitted into our thirties and motherhood
while you fevered in hot pants.
Then cancelled a tour. A wisp of death
pushed the pop princess into a chrysalis.
We discovered mortality: someone’s friend,
mother, sister; someone diagnosed.
A pop queen emerged, slinky, sassy
showgirl you go, girl.
Key to a kingdom
There must be as many names
as there are splinters in this barn,
my attempts at guessing
as futile as my efforts to spin straw to gold.
But my guesses appealed to your arrogance,
made you confident,
let me overhear your boasts,
gave me the password to a life of wealth
instead of a failure’s death.
Just as I was getting fond of your grumpiness,
the chip on your shoulder
you’d sculpted to an intricate gargoyle,
the sour-sweet taste
from your wine glass
that was always half empty.
A portion of your own gold
wouldn’t reward you.
How can I give to a man
who can weave his own riches?
The only gift you’ll accept
is freedom of this kingdom
so you can complain
about the weight of its keys.