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November 20, 2014 / Sarah Thomasin

Remembering Rachel #TDoR

I’m trying to see her face.
It’s been four years
The glossy auburn hair
The vivid silks
She splashed across herself,
They’re all so clear,
But not her face.

Sometimes I get a flash
Of hazel-green:
Her eyes. The way they gleamed
With secret light.
The tears
That made them shine the brighter.

Sometimes I see again
the slow, shy smile
That broke like winter dawn
Across…

I cannot see her face.

I do remember, just,
The things she’d say
Her voice heavy with troubled
self disgust, the way
She’d worry at her jaw,
Show me the scars
Of thirty years of stubble.

“I look like Desperate Dan
– brick shithouse – Look at me,
Admit you see a man.
D’you know, inside I’m tiny,
Maybe twelve?
A small, slight girl
Locked, desperate in this shithouse
Nearly all my life.

I wish that you could see me.”

I’m trying to see her face.
It’s been four years…

But all I see are sparkling eyes,
Bright silks
And smiling sadness.

When she returns, she’s tiny.
Maybe twelve.

November 3, 2014 / Sarah Thomasin

Horoscope

Constellations are only the shapes that we chose
To see in some stars
that are not even close
to each other. No lines to connect them
Except for the ones we expect. Then,

Astrology? none of it’s canon.
I don’t care if you ‘ship The Pleiades
Like some dissatisfied Fan on
a mission to make the whole story revolve around you…
They have nothing to do
with each other.
And Pollux and castor? I’m sorry,
But outside of Rome
They have never been brothers

Those lights in the sky are not small,
They are just far away.
And forgive me if this seems like
An obvious thing for me to say

But those join-the-dot puzzles aren’t real.
Look up at the sky:

If that were a piece of black velvet
With sequins sewn on
By a heavenly hand
Trying to let us know what’s going on;
Just think how mundane that would be.

Look up at the sky:

What kind of a creature would see
Business advice,
Or a hint at romance,
Or a warning of fair weather friends?

In that beautiful, infinite, vast, three dimensional
Burning and spinning and stretching and shining?
How can you look up at that and see
“Scorpio: this is a good day to kick off that diet”
Look up at the sky:
Past the sequins and velvet.
Just try it.

November 3, 2014 / Sarah Thomasin

Dark Matter

(This poem has been peer reviewed by actual astrophysicists)

The universe is made of stuff
We try to comprehend
Like galaxies and stars and…space
That never seems to end

A while ago we thought we knew
The basic composition
of stars and rocks and gas but now
We’ve altered our position:

The stuff we thought we understood
Is so much idle chatter
Cos nearly all our universe
Is made up of “dark matter”

Look. Imagine a lasagne.
There is pasta, cheese, and sauce
But a lot of it is something
That could very well be horse

Or think about a burger
That’s as tough as greasy leather
There.s beef in there but that’s not what
Is holding it together.

It isn’t very good for you:
You wouldn’t even dare
To eat it if you let yourself
Remember that it’s there

But it makes the burger taste ok
And ready meals are cheap
And sometimes you just can’t afford
To really delve too deep.

Oh they told us in the old days
That the sky was full of stars
And that some might have some planets
That were just a bit like ours

But do not call trading standards
For the truth is rather stark
What’s really in your universe?
You’re better in the dark.

November 3, 2014 / Sarah Thomasin

A haiku expressing my strong emotion regarding black holes

Black holes really suck.
They really really really
Really really suck.

November 2, 2014 / Sarah Thomasin

The Cat that NASA experimented on to see if it could land on its feet in zero gravity

We went to a place they said was like space and they threw me up in the air
To find out what would happen to me when the gravity just wasn’t there
They already knew just what I could do on an ordinary day
I can land on my feet all tidy and neat and it’s always been that way.

Now humans can’t meet this easy feat
that a cat can perform with class
When they’re falling down, well they just thrash around
and then land upon their ass
And I can see how its a sore point as now they have hatched a nefarious plan
To find away to take away my effortless grace and élan

They’d taken away the up and the down and dropped me into space
With cameras all trained to capture the pained expression on my face
I paddled around above the ground and twisted with all my might
But for the first time in my nine lives I just couldn’t get it right

I’ve been told that as dominant species go these humans are some of the best
Inventing cat food and sofas and radiators and all the rest
But you know I’ve got a bit of an edge when their scientific endeavor
Is to make me almost as clumsy as every single human ever.

October 2, 2014 / Sarah Thomasin

The Friendzone

He’s trapped inside the friendzone

He doesn’t want to be

Her best platonic buddy and

He wishes she could see

That he would be a better boyfriend

Than the idiots she chooses.

But this guy is a nice guy

And the nice guy always loses.

She’s hot but nothing special

She’s in his league for sure

And yet she looks right past him

It’s too much to endure.

She talks about her love affairs

He sits and grits his teeth into

An understanding smile that hides

Resentment underneath.

He’s trapped inside the friendzone,

It really has him fretting:

She rattles on for hours about

The sex that he’s not getting.

She asks him: how’s his love life?

He hates her for not knowing.

He shrugs and turns away from her

To keep the rage from showing.

Why isn’t she adoring him

And falling at his feet?

Why can she see that it is he

Who’d make her life complete?

Her absolute stupidity

He really finds quite grating:

She doesn’t even notice

That he’s here, before her, waiting.

But he’s in it for the long game,

This tireless, trusted friend:

One day, with luck, she’ll realise that

The whole thing was pretend.

September 26, 2014 / Sarah Thomasin

The Rats In Central Park

The city changes us
We find ourselves
(Reflected in another monster’s eyes)
Made monstrous.

Red pinpoints in the dark
A shriek, a scream,

There, we are scavengers.

But here,
We scamper over rocks
Eat acorns, in the shade
Of whispering trees

The sun glosses our fur;
Our eyes gleam berry-black

And for a while,
Forgetting where we live,

We are no longer vermin.

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