Bachelor of Arts

afternoon, after the heatwave breaks

 

humidity on the skin

clammy droplets of sweat

sliding down

 

outside, the wind roars

through the gum trees

and the chimes in the gardenia

 

above, the ceiling fan whirrs

stirring particles

from the undusted porcelain dolls

 

little room for feet

two chairs, two tables, one book shelf

and the computer desk

 

mum’s nudes on the wall

a bedazzled orange cockatoo

and a musty old degree

 

bachelor of arts

 

 

 

Copyright February 2019

 

 

Poem written for an online course I’m doing on how to make a poem.

No feedback as yet!

 

 

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