Untitled Document

Home?

Nessa O'Mahony

For 30 years a suburban semi-d,
pebble-dashed , walled
in by concrete

I'd play out my fantasies
in the back garden, a crew-cut
Scheherazade in cast-down shorts,

shaded from the cruel desert sun
by Foxford rugs
thrown over upturned chairs.

I spun my tales to blasé Crolly dolls,
though I didn't know then
what fate I must postpone,

got a glimpse of that later
in the street politics
of dodge ball and kick the can.

The lesson quickly learned:
I would always be
a dab hand at spectator sports.

A t 31 I bought my own four walls,
eschewed pebble dash for white wash,
chose orchid stems and Persian rugs,
waited for Shahriyar to find the 'burbs.