Poem (and poet) of the week

Atl

When Andrew T. Lamar calls you his Valentine,
something is up.
When he looks at you without undressing
you with his eyes: overreact.
That’s not normal for Andrew T. Lamar.
When he calls you late at night
and says he’s “doing econ,”
always check that’s not a girl’s name.
When he says “I’m hungry, too bad you’re not here,”
he never means that he likes your cooking.
When he asks what you’re wearing
never answer “boy shorts and a string of pearls.”
He’ll imagine you pulling a tray of cookies
out of the oven wearing only that,
and an apron,
and probably a pair of heels.
He’ll never ask you to stay over,
usually he has to get up early for church;
right after he breaks about four of the commandments
just by watching you smile.


I don't get many chances to introduce brand new work to the blogosphere, but this is probably one of those few times when I can. Stephanie Leal, creator of this body of work called Metrophobia, honed her craft in UEA, at the same time as I was attempting (and failing) to hone mine in Biography. American by birth, she came to Norwich and there the fresh, biting, East wind found her and breathed its keen sense of timing and wit into her already sharp mind.

I have always had trouble with poetry, and my ability to wrap my mind around the meaning, but I do love Steph's poetry - the way she plays with form, ideas and words all combine to make a truly great anthology. So, go seek her out, and - if you're lucky - I might even give you another poem one day.