Issue 32: Alison J. Barton

DECEMBER GRAVEYARD

 


Cambridge

 

We talked of abundance

their love of languages

mine who read his whole life

what lucky joy, I love you, you love, I you

 

at the university Nick Laird’s poem made me cry

this place is not ours

it is where new things will smother and pinch

nothing is going to last from now

 

each step on shambled Cambridge tiles shakes my nameless unease


 

 



Plath gothic

 

on one side

a field of iced pastel green

the other, a victim’s velvet black

 

I told her we didn’t have long

I can’t hold this story forever,

can’t bring it to light

my throat took the blame

tasted like burnt milk

 

      she must dream the shape of the crockery her mother chose

      nothing is ever fully formed

 

 

 


The way to her grave and back

 

Cambridge behind me,

I left the part that couldn’t be faced

(everything a mother forbids)

and thought, I’ve always wanted to be a small woman

 

what was every day made of for her

filling time knowing what was coming

her head against the concrete

what it took to go to the oven

 

how could such a giant be buried here!

such a monolith, dead! I gasped

reduced to so shrivelled a cask

her work a triumph! she a triumph!

 

no one will find the suicide journals

the angry fuck hate books, she must have thought

 

I took the bus back down the long slope

her earliest works at my wrist

she was the first and last to say, I have lived here before

her frightful error that she should have waited

 

I have her tyrant in me

keeping me in order

filling the pages

lying

 

 


 

Sylvia

 

filled with passion, young Sylvia joy!

her excited self! Her love, love, love self!

She revelled in pleasure, life

limerent, hunched over journals,

wanting to write and write and write,

to be in love but mess, mess, mess.

my heart hurts. oh, oh, oh, it hurts!

almost done she’s getting ready now

she doesn’t know how long  

darkening as she goes

you killed, killed, killed me!







Alison J Barton is a widely published Wiradjuri poet. In 2023 she was the inaugural University of Cambridge First Nations Writer-in-Residence. Alison’s work appeared in Best of Australian Poems 2022 and 2023. Her first full-length collection of poetry, Not Telling, will be published this year with Puncher & Wattmann.

Copyright © 2024 by Alison J. Barton, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author