Nunca Mas

Quiet Lightning / Literary Mixtape curated by Anna Allen & Sophia Passin

If anyone missed my 3am reading, it’s here. I’m knackered, my glasses makes me look deranged, and I’m in a lion onesie in my bed. My Spanish is appalling, and my poetry’s not much better. It’s not my finest moment… but then again, it’s not my worst.

The Tracks – Wingless Dreamer

My poem The Tracks can be found in this collection.

Some nights are too cold for stilettos

One platform and icy concrete

No place here to drink white coffee

Two young girls on metal benches

Sit and watch their make-up smudging

Sharing fags and passing lighters

Hair back-brushed to reach the sky

And fishnets tearing cautiously

Around their scabbing, bloody knees.

Girls dressed up and looking pretty

High-heeled boots and lip-gloss

Sticky to the touch

From magazines where centrefolds

Hide teenage dreams

Of being oh so pretty, oh so sexy, oh

At age thirteen.

Girls who know a touch they shouldn’t

Girls with lips stitched under lipstick

Girls who hate and judge each other

Girls who wish it started different.

Watch the lights now flashing red,

The whiny sound of loud alarm

The train is speeding up ahead,

But there’s no screech of brakes

Instead, the girls are waiting on the tracks,

Grasping tightly clammy hands,

Prepared to cause a small disruption

Garbled overhead announcements.

Tutting customers impatient

Waiting for the cleaning up of

Scummy skin and toxic waste

Will undoubtedly think them selfish.