By Kate Maxwell
He rolls
like a juice spilling chook
on a rotisserie, nudging my back
as I shift further to the mattress edge.
Touch, a scald on this foul night.
Fitted cotton sheet’s crept loose
like a wilted leaf curling in on itself
and air is thin, itchy with invisible
midges prickling along damp skin.
Stagnant in unblinking black
night stares through the window
offers nothing but warm, stale breath
and a brown cockroach. I lay, basting
Stagnant in unblinking black
night stares through the window
offers nothing but warm, stale breath
and a brown cockroach. I lay, basting
the mouth of night. Balcony tiles
are cool beneath bare feet as I lean
into long metal rail, pressing heat
against it like a lover. Sky throbs
shimmering with electricity, the
distant beat of creature’s wings
and burning white of fiery stars.
I fling my soul into the depths of
that ebony sea. But down on earth
body still swelters. Dim shadows
on the street, still trees, a wandering
cat, and two lights on in the apartment
block across the street. At 3.00 am
maybe students cramming, an old
lady making tea? But who can sleep
in this melting city? His rhythmic
snoring answers as I pick and stumble
through unlit rooms towards bedroom
then finally surrender to sheetless
repose resigned to counting fish.
Kate Maxwell is yet another teacher with writing aspirations. She’s been published and awarded in Australian and International literary magazines such as Cordite, Hecate, fourW, Meniscus, Blood and Bourbon, and Brilliant Flash Fiction. Kate’s interests include film, wine, and sleeping. Her first poetry anthology will be published with Interactive Publications, Brisbane, in 2021. She can be found online here.
