Jocelyn Page is a poet from Connecticut, USA, who currently lives in South East London. Her work has appeared in Smiths Knoll, The Interpreter’s House, City Lighthouse anthology (Tall Lighthouse, 2009), and on various music websites including the Royal Philharmonic Hear Here project. In 2008 her work was Highly Commended by The New Writer Prose & Poetry Magazine. Her debut pamphlet will be published in 2010 by Tall Lighthouse.
You’re on your way to the mall
to an air-conditioned day
where customers will be right
& you’ll need to ask a manager
to authorize any refund, when driving
through that octopus of an intersection
where you’re always surprised your light’s green
you’ll see his car & your bowels’ll prickle
then swell like a pastry bag prepped to pipe
you’ll see someone else where you used to be
that spot in the car that was yours
like the chair at the dining room table
where Dad always sits & nobody else
would even think of sitting there.
& she’ll be in the middle of that bench seat
next to him, the stick shift denting her thighs
& you’ll drive by, changed.
It’ll be with you then, you’ll carry it
like a terminal diagnosis
all nine hours of your shift
& between sales it’ll dwarf you
at the cash register it’ll hide
& in the stock room you’ll feel faint
all day long it’ll loiter
like a pufferfish, ready to flood itself
big onto the scene or rest alert
behind the treasure chest
small, ready & all about the poison.
Read more of Jocelyn’s poetry here and here.