Poems by Claire AherneIwhatyouwantlight slowly prismingthru my towni go homethere is noword for this, i am just aboutto be born, hold oni have told u this as long as always, andalways will –there is nowhereto meet me, we pass, fliesto lamps, lampsto rosy memoir, and are gonetravelling thewidth, the glowing bellywe float ononly firefliesIIFinding underwearThat is not mine, looking atIt blankly, forgetEasier to beBlind and deaf, than choosing toDiscard eyes and earsI am but a bluntKnife, couldn’t kill myself ifI so wanted toThat cloud looks like aMushroom. That cloud looks like aBedroom. That cloud looksBeautiful – were ITo stop crying, like a smallBaby cloud myself