The Party Will Be Later Poem by Zyw Zywa

Bruises on my hips
from a growth spurt, long days
of practising my brains
and always cycling against the wind
in the winter over polder ice

A doctor's prescription
with jealous eyes of my sisters
who also want to eat sweet
cream every day, but then
they'd have to grow faster

make long days of practising their brains
and always cycle against the wind
in the winter over polder ice
(for their future, for themselves -
..the party will be later)