2 poems by Cai Draper
- Editor
- Dec 2, 2020
- 1 min read
22/4/20
one of the main problems with being alive
is that other people accept you more than yourself
this specific thing makes me go into the corner & bang my head
it’s okay Cai they say
but stop banging your head
& I say what you really mean when you say that
is you want me to bang my head even harder
if you didn’t then you wouldn’t have said the opposite
that’s when they look baffled & upset
& say I don’t understand come & sit with me
okay
then we hug but it doesn’t feel like a hug should
it feels like a very bad piece of wood forever
there’s a mosquito is rubbing itself into the living room window in the evening sun
mostly what I contemplate is where the next headswoon is coming from
& by that I don’t mean weed or wine
but perhaps the swan
bossing its way through Venice now the boats’ve gone
5/5/20
today’s the day I release the photos of my burial mound
made of disposable lighters pilfered from the artist nervous at the doors to the space
lighters
& a sheaf of part stuck collages
lighters
collages
& a Friday night of half cut colleagues whipping themselves into soft peaks
this morning I found a pair of Oreo doughnuts in a box with a see through top
perched on a gate post at the front of my house
I took them in immediately
it was too dangerous
__________
Cai Draper is a poet from South London living in Norwich, whose work appears in various magazines, anthologies and journals. He hosts an online reading series with Assembly House, and organises free poetry workshops at the Book Hive. @DraperCai
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