8.06 / June 2013

Two Poems


Kyle has a new motorbike,
Rosie dreamt about giving him
a hand job. It went all over his
hand and face and afterwards he
said thanks, I suppose. She
came home from work and found
him covering his bike, in preparation
for tomorrows snow.



Whitney Houston

you eat the doughnuts
so fiercely the red jam
falls in between your boobs.

The time we had
phone sex, I breathed
quietly because
john was next door –
I went, in the early
hours to the bathroom
just as we were saying
our goodbyes to find
john smoking

I’ve lost count of the
Smart business men I lock
eyes with. I don’t want
To become one of those
people who looks
at everyone to see if
they’re looking at them
I want at least
some mystery, and if not
to have someone look,
at me – while I read
frown burrowed at
some ghastly
newspaper story

Sarah Chapman is twenty-four years old, started writing poetry two years ago and lives in London. Her poems have appeared variously online and in print and are forthcoming in places like SSYK with a chapbook by Red Ceilings Press. She blogs here http://sarahellenchapman.tumblr.com/
8.06 / June 2013