Rebellion

The swimming pool clung like a cold cape
to her neck and shoulders,
her pink lips, purple cheeks and white ears
making her look the least like a flower.

Walking home,
she concerntrated on the squat yellow line
that coupled and singled its way across town
to her house,
with the dirty front door and bonsai front garden.

She knew she would wait for her
on the grey sofa with the autumn yellow patches
that matched her heavy highlights,
the ashtray off the table, the cat spleening her stomach
her voice up the stairs as greasy as confidence.

She pretended to smoke,
catching the craving from the cold
so that she could say 'yeah mum,
I just decided,
I like it.'