Mosquitoes

A poem about how hard it is to speak.

Mosquitoes


I live here like a word 
dripped from a pinhole mouth

animals step around it/me

here they die at the end of every day
and remake themselves 
			or not

I am always new to them, a new obstacle

for a moment a word can hang
				strike
					linger 

a sibilant womb, a cobra´s hood

these things only ever pass
even a bite is temporary

it's the mosquitoes I hate


(first published in Eyeflash)

I have a super busy week this week so there will just be one poem today. I wrote this in the early years of moving to Germany. I had no German (and still don’t have very much!) and this poem is about how silenced I felt/feel. From being a pretty articulate person in my native English to an almost mute in German has been a very humbling experience.

Unfortunately this lack echoes into the chamber of my exsistential loneliness and reverberates there like a monstrous bell. I still hate the mosquitoes!!

(a field in Alfter, Bonn, where we first lived on arriving in Germany)

Please consider leaving a tip in my tip jar. It means so much! if you enjoy my words consider restacking or recommending me too. thank you for reading and being here!