Emily Dening
Lifeline
The man at the other end
has no idea there are three of us
hunched against the hum of the fridge.
He strains to hear words
winching themselves
past my gullet while
Mynah bird’s squawking
in my ear about how Friday night
should be pubbing and clubbing,
Shadow’s noting
the way the man
manoeuvres
‘How does that make you feel?’
towards footholds
‘Have you always thought that?’
clamps himself to my ledge
‘Do you think about killing yourself?’
I imagine his warm hands, no
I don’t want to hurt others.
Mynah blasts
You’ve got nothing better to do,
Shadow broods
How many say yes,
how many are saved?
He’s turning, a gleam of torch
‘Shall I ring tomorrow?’
No thank you - I have been taught to be
polite, to consider the other person, always.
Mynah hasn’t
Look sunshine, you’d better because she’s unreliable
Shadow’s musing whether
the same man will call,
with his soft, lulling voice,
then they’re both at it.
Why have you wasted his time?
Has he learned not to cry?
He should get a life, you can’t
Does he leave it all behind with his coffee mug?
and I have the last word,
reassuring him everything will be
fine tomorrow as it very nearly
always is.
has no idea there are three of us
hunched against the hum of the fridge.
He strains to hear words
winching themselves
past my gullet while
Mynah bird’s squawking
in my ear about how Friday night
should be pubbing and clubbing,
Shadow’s noting
the way the man
manoeuvres
‘How does that make you feel?’
towards footholds
‘Have you always thought that?’
clamps himself to my ledge
‘Do you think about killing yourself?’
I imagine his warm hands, no
I don’t want to hurt others.
Mynah blasts
You’ve got nothing better to do,
Shadow broods
How many say yes,
how many are saved?
He’s turning, a gleam of torch
‘Shall I ring tomorrow?’
No thank you - I have been taught to be
polite, to consider the other person, always.
Mynah hasn’t
Look sunshine, you’d better because she’s unreliable
Shadow’s musing whether
the same man will call,
with his soft, lulling voice,
then they’re both at it.
Why have you wasted his time?
Has he learned not to cry?
He should get a life, you can’t
Does he leave it all behind with his coffee mug?
and I have the last word,
reassuring him everything will be
fine tomorrow as it very nearly
always is.
Emily Dening lives in Cambridge and works at a sixth form college library. She has had poems published in Smith’s Knoll, Seam, Staple, Orbis and Reactions 3 and on www.boomeranguk.com
Page(s) 28
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