“Clock-work” by Zara Cassidy-Coss

nausea overwhelms me as i sit on the step
cigarette burning to the butt and i am anxious
they won’t turn up
that strange, eerie attachment to the phone
which i grip so tightly in my hand
it won’t ring
the smoke blurs my vision, my reflection
distorted in the window facing me across the garden
today i’ll be reclusive i announce
as i light up another, the stick of ill health
which hinders my body in every stage of battle
and my mind, too distracted and far away
i fear the self indulgence, creeping up behind me
clever, clever boy
charming too
knows how to make me fall hopelessly, content as i am
to revisit, revise, rewind
allows me to exaggerate images and conversations
adventures, discoveries, adolescence
mocking teenage rebellion, teenage revival
stare at the clock over my shoulder
uncertain as to why i am so concerned
so enthralled by two hands
two hands in my own
too self obsessed to scream i’m alone?
then i laugh at absurdity, shimmering
self indulgence sits to my immediate left
his hand rests on my knee, then thigh
and now i’m excited, heartbeat races round the track
in front of us both, how we love to pretend
to fictionalise and invent
scenes, lets cause a scene, awaken the neighbourhood
let them scream in ecstasy and fear
he removes his hand, suddenly i’m bored
part company before we begin to grate and mistake
lights my cigarette for me and departs
they won’t turn up

Profile: Zara Cassidy-Coss

1 thought on ““Clock-work” by Zara Cassidy-Coss

  1. I have to think the lack of punctuation, including the small “n” of the first word was a purposefully and well thought out approach as this reads immenselty quickly and as streams of consciousnesses go, I’ve never gone back to the start to drown all over again. Well done Zara Cassidy Coss!

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