Stephanie Leal is originally from New Jersey, USA. She received her MA in Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia in 2007 and is studying for her PhD in Philosophy. She currently lives in Norwich. Visit her website.
December 16, 1773
Sixteen sips from Chinese porcelain
espy the arbitrary day, the decisive act.
History began mohawking the bay:
vulcanizing sand dunes
cracking into champagned water,
bumbling with stamped-out Liberty,
the smuggling thief; a unanimous
to remember the misrepresentation,
remember the gunpowder;
obscures feathered headdress.
The tea still washes up
on the shores of Boston;
nothing was damaged or stolen
except a padlock
that was accidentally broken,
but anonymously replaced one week after.
Mrs Darling’s Kiss
Lines lifted from Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie
Her mouth, a nightlight, conspicuously
sweet and mocking. On it was a kiss,
hung on the right-hand corner of her lips,
unobtainable. And yet he, clad in leaves
and juices that ooze from trees, easily
stole that kiss away. She pirouettes. Miss
Darling, now released from her innocence,
forgets how to fly, forgets how to see.
Although she is now dead and forgotten,
fairy dust still sparkles on the wood floor
(dog hair mixed with strands of white silk cotton).
She asked for a kiss, he gave an acorn.
Sewing youth to shadow never softens
the wrinkles: Napoleon slams the door.
Published in Metrophobia (Penned in the Margins, 2009).
Read more about Metrophobia.