share


Swimming Pool; No Ladder

You realise you haven’t eaten in days.

 

Dirty dishes line the counters; your twin toddlers

glitch in and out of their high chairs, mustering

twin howls of outrage.

You give up;

pass out on a floor slick with plumbing malfunctions.

Someone, as always, is watching

and will come to your aid.

 

Your husband is home from work

but his pay barely touches the bills strewn

across the front lawn. Sometimes

you wish for a meteor, or a swarm of bees.

Sometimes you think the only way out

of this suburban hellscape is through the foundations,

trapped waist-deep, pissing yourself into the cellar.

 

Someone will make it all right;

and anyway none of this is real:

leading scientists

guess we are ninety-nine-per-cent probably

living a simulation.

 

Against your better judgment, you pull up a chair and

Play Video Games until 6 a.m.

 

You realise you haven’t eaten in days.


ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR

is studying for an MSt in Creative Writing while working as a part-time bookseller. She has written poetry since her teens, when she was a two-time Foyle Young Poet, and was the Ledbury Festival Young Poet in Residence in 2016. She completed her undergraduate degree in English at Cambridge.



READ NEXT

fiction

January 2013

Car Wash

Patrick Langley

fiction

January 2013

He is sitting on the back seat of a car, somewhere in France. It’s a bright blue day, absurdly...

feature

Issue No. 15

A Weekend With My Own Death

Gabriela Wiener

TR. Lucy Greaves

feature

Issue No. 15

We all have tombs from which we travel. To reach mine I have to get a lift with some...

feature

March 2014

Burroughs in London

Heathcote Williams

feature

March 2014

I first met William Burroughs in 1963. I was working for a now defunct literary magazine called Transatlantic Review...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required