Lizbeth sits
in the lounge
after school
her mother
comes and sits
opposite
found a book
Mother says
Lizbeth stares
what book's that?
A sex book
Mother says
is it good?
Lizbeth says
in your room
Mother says
Lizbeth frowns
in my room?
Yes your room
in that old
chest-of-drawers
Mother says
Lizbeth stares
with wide eyes
perhaps Dad
put it there
Lizbeth says
don't lie now
you know you
put it there
Mother says
eyes wildly
staring out
it's filthy
the pictures
of people
doing things
Mother says
it's just sex
Lizbeth says
positions
suggestions
how to do
all those things
where's it now?
It's still there
in the drawer
Mother says
quite coldly
you're 13
not 18
why have you
got the book?
Just to know
about it
Lizbeth says
you haven't
done those things
I hope child
Mother says
of course not
(although she
nearly had
Benedict
in her room
that time but
he refused)
just as well
your father
never found
that sex book
Mother says
he'd like it
Lizbeth says
those pictures
of nude girls
legs spread
that's enough
Mother says
she almost
goes to slap
the girl's face
but doesn't
you'll burn it
this minute
Mother says
it's not mine
it belongs
to a girl
at my school
Lizbeth says
give it back
to her then
Mother says
Lizbeth goes
up the stairs
to her room
slams the door
Mother turns
on the old
radio
Mozart plays
sits and thinks
of all those
better days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem