Boxing Day Party – by Jinny Fisher

 

Her father looms towards her.

Brandy breath engulfs her face
as he prises the soda can
from her fingers –

wraps them round a glass:
raspberry gin –
it’s sweet, like fruit gums.

She watches the open bottle tilt
in his hand. Acid slides
to the back of her tongue.

 

 

 

Jinny Fisher is a member of Wells Fountain Poets. Magazines include The Interpreter’s House, Under the Radar, Tears in the FenceProle, Strange Poetry, and Ink, Sweat & Tears. Commended and placed in national competitions, she is  committed to pushing her outreach ‘Poetry Pram’ around festivals for random readings: https://www.facebook.com/PoetryPram/ 

Five a.m. – by Jinny Fisher

 

A green light on his charging phone,
a blue glow from the night light by the door.

The garden will need watering soon.
Must remember to put out the rubbish.

Must call the lawyer tomorrow morning.
That familiar ache behind his eyes.

Next to him on the covers, her dog stirs,
offers the gentlest whimper.

The decision: to turn on the lamp
and face the bedside photograph

or switch on the World Service,
plump the pillow, and turn again to the wall.

 

 

 

Jinny Fisher is a member of Wells Fountain Poets. Magazines include The Interpreter’s House, Under the Radar, Tears in the FenceProle, Strange Poetry, and Ink, Sweat & Tears. Commended and placed in national competitions, she is  committed to pushing her outreach ‘Poetry Pram’ around festivals for random readings: https://www.facebook.com/PoetryPram/