An ice cream
p l o p s
​
onto scorching concrete
​
Saccharine
​
Giddy,
in that kind of giggly rage
​
​
hopped?
​
I don’t think I know how I got on the bus
did I float?
​
I don’t remember looking at my feet
but I imagine they were there
​
​
​
I see
the driver in his glass tank
​
​
​
There’s a touch of childhood madness in our house.
​
thuds on the bathroom door −
laughter congeals
around
the tiles
​
​
​
​
sulphurous silence
​
hang
on my lip
​
​
​
—————————————————————————————————————
​
​
​
infect my teeth
my tongue
my brow
a sunken charcoal
​
a stretch of eye and lid and temple
​
​
the pavestones are thick with water
​
will they dry tomorrow, d’you think?
​
​
speckles of lime
peep
between the cracks.
​
​
Sara is a filmmaker, performer and activist based in London. She is currently directing a spoken word short film; the first in a series of audio-visual poems on experiences of cultural dysphoria.