Cadaverine Magazine

Coca Cola   People love to see coke disappear into a slim, tall girl, picture her sunlit sipping from a tall, cool glass, her legs shining and stretched on top the table. A wink and […]

Jenny Moroney

Jenny Moroney is from South London and is currently a student of English Literature with Creative Writing at The University of East Anglia. Find her online at www.newwriting.net/author/ moroney-jenny.

Information

This article was published by Helen Bowell on 22 Apr 2017, and is filed under News, Poetry.

Two poems by Jenny Moroney

Coca Cola

 

People love to see coke disappear into a slim, tall girl,

picture her sunlit sipping from a tall, cool glass,

her legs shining and stretched on top the table.

A wink and a wave shields eyes that clench a glint

of ice to match the cubes that clink in her drink.

Grinning she bites her straw, bites the summer day

and biting at transience, she champs her lip.

 

 

 

Cracked Crux

 

A blessing cracked into a bowl –

the yellow nucleus swimming

in a translucent dream.

 

A matryoshka doll –

three sacrifices enclosed in one another:

crushed, pressed, then pierced.

 

A sphere of life split –

the golden lava oozing

through an invisible veil.

 

And your love a greater blessing 

perhaps but

I will still have eggs for breakfast

after you are gone. 

 

 

 

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