Lamps

January 2, 2023

 

 

People have lamps for bodies.

When you’re in hurricane love you can see it, the light house, the summer rental for the soul lit up like unexpected fireworks that make a holiday.

The human body is an arsonist.

At any minute she razes what you accepted and shouldn’t have.

But don’t blame yourself.

There was never an escape plan.

You were meant to die this way.

All lit up.

 

 

Anne Walsh

Anne Walsh is a Poet and a Story Writer.
She’s been shortlisted for the Newcastle Poetry Prize twice and for the ACU Prize for Literature.
Her first book of poems, I Love Like a Drunk Does, was published by Ginninderra Press (2009, Australia).
Her work has also been published in the U.S., including a short story, The Rickman Digression, by Glimmer Train. Her second book of poems, Intact, was published in January 2017 by Flying Island Books.

Don't Miss

Finding the Bliss

It was a summer, Mason knew, when things were suddenly

Motherhood Taught Me to Stop Dishing Out Advice

Nothing prepared me for motherhood. Nothing at all. Not