Thursday, March 28, 2013

In this poem Elspeth Brown shows a characteristic wry humour, balanced between comedy and threat. I love the bird cage!

Identity Crisis

They phoned to tell me I had lost my identity.
Someone bought a bird cage with my credit card
and transferred ten thousand pounds.
If she had my identity would she cage a bird?
I wonder if she has my sore big toe,
my nearly healed broken arm?
Does she really want to be this old?
So somebody has my identity.
If you see her on the street, my clone,
ask about milk bottles on the table,
ask how many grandchildren she has
and what she is writing in her head.
Ask her what she worries about at night.
Ask her who it is she loves.
My identity is not so easy to take on,
I have a chequered history.

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