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My unworn dress

This morning, I played an old record
- the one you always turned off
Just to hear the music with my own ears
It had as much dust
As all the mornings I didn't listen to it
Because your ears didn't want to

 

Last night I wore that dress, the one you don't like
Just to see how it suits me
- through my own eyes
And when you saw me 

you told me I was beautiful

 

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Poverty Is

You think poor is…

One car not two

semi, not detached

the right school

the wrong brand

the wrong label.

 

I think poor is…

Tide-lines

thick enough to pick at

cardboard soles

in shoes with holes

and stains that don’t

wash clean.

 

Together

we know poor is…

the curl of a lip

in a hostile world,

the shame

of not fittin...

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