Josephine Corcoran

A poem by me here. Looking at it now, I think it needs some more work – the line breaks aren’t quite right, for one thing. But it’s out there and a nice site of poems to explore, in any case!

The Open Mouse

House

Under your body, my language of floors
your belly and hips reading small dips
and gradients, your fingertips
writing worlds on my walls

You translated television into me
made my bedrooms cells at Colditz
and convent cells, rooms at the Walton’s
and the von Trapp mansion

Now
gagged with paint, bound with wallpaper paste
subsided, infested
I still taste the insides of your nightdresses

Roads, rivers and years between us
it’s strangers listening, cold in their beds
to voices calling from room to room
keys turning, murmuring
in German, singing
prayers

Josephine Corcoran lives in Wiltshire and is a member of BlueGate Poets. She runs a poetry blog called And Other Poems http://andotherpoems.wordpress.com/

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