TEXT poetry


Maggie Butt

Second Life


No desks and screens for me: but tanned
a biscuit brown, eyes creased from staring
out to sea; my dreadlocked hair bleached
straw by salt and sun; a wet-suit skin tight
as a seal's; body of muscle and hope.

My second self won't care about the cold shock
of the sea as long as surf is up: I'll breast
the breaking waves, buffeted and drenched,
cough water, coming up for more,
feet numb, ready for the moment and the rush.

And in the evening, salt-lipped, sand-caked,
sit by firelight, watch the sparks soar star-wards,
listen to the songs and poems of the world,
all searching for the perfect word
the perfect wave, to carry us ashore.



Maggie Butt teaches creative writing at Middlesex University, UK, and is the chair of the National Association of Writers in Education. Her first poetry collection, Lipstick, was published in 2007.


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Vol 13 No 2 October 2009
Editors: Nigel Krauth & Jen Webb