Sunday, June 26, 2022

Broken Bottle

I stumbled on the footpath in the dark,

made clumsy by my heavy shopping bags.

The concrete’s lifted where I often park;

at night I couldn’t see the warning flags.

I fell onto my knees. The right one’s grazed,

but doesn’t ache at all, not like my wrist

which only steadied me, so I’m amazed

how much it hurts. I wasn’t even pissed,

I’d had one glass with Ruth just down the road

and left that bottle with her, feeling kind.

I’d bought another. Boy, did it explode.

At first I thought it blood, then smelled the wine.

The lesson that I learned that night for free -

I take a glass of wine, or it takes me.

Mercedes Webb-Pullman gained her Diploma in Creative Writing from Whitireia, 2009, and graduated from IIML Victoria University with MA in Creative Writing 2011. Her work has appeared in Turbine, 4th Floor, Swamp, Reconfigurations, The Electronic Bridge, Otoliths, Connotations, The Red Room, Typewriter Kind of a Hurricane Press, and Cliterature, among others, and in her books. The latest, The Jean Genie, explores the work of Jean Genet. She lives on the Kapiti Coast, New Zealand.

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