Poetry: Emotional Labour

It’s her job to remember everything,

(Lunches, birthdays of distant aunts, school plays, 
Where you put the wrapping paper left over from last year.)

And in remembering everything,

(cut off the crusts, the tenth of November, Wednesday night 7.30pm sharp don’t forget to fashion an elaborate costume from a cereal box)

She forgets
all the things she used to remember

before she had to remember where you put the wrapping paper
left over from last year.

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2 comments

  1. Keep up with the excellent poetry – I envisage a slim volume with a very stylish cover; a window display in a bookshop we both know….

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I could do a reading – there would be 5 people and a couple of strays who’d wandered in off the street with their cans

      Liked by 1 person

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