MAG Poetry Competition 2010 – Shortlisted Poem
In My Pocket
A foetus, as flat as an empty envelope,
I cup my hand around it, in my pocket,
Giving it air to breathe,
It’s still alive, I think,
Viscous, a see-through seahorse.
I walk, through a rubber-wet night, out of season,
Car tyres sneeze, gutters gob,
Brown buildings gleam like polished shoes,
Alone with my pocket baby,
I pray my breath is contagious,
As a Chinese whisper in a playground
Or plump gossip shared by friends.
Back in my pocket, my hand stays cupped.