Poetry by Becky May

     John Brighenti CC




Mornings at Calle Floridablanca 

The ones where 4am keened, cold as floor tiles / your flatmate cleared her throat as she left for work / you wondered what she wasn´t saying / friends sent you facebook videos on how to survive a break-up / the cat jumped on your door handle / swung like a question mark /  you needed codeine to get out of bed /  your carrots slimed to black in the crappy fridge /  people fought for Ikea furniture in the flat you used to share with your ex / your flatmate told you chickpeas were a natural antidepressant / you woke up after eight hours on benzo /  the river called from the end of the street / Nina Simone sung you into the day / you taught the third conditional to students – if it had not been for therapy, I would not have survived / the blind rolled down by itself / the cat took the bathplug for its plaything / the sky was studded with starlings / you hung white sheets out to dry/ the roof terraces spread out like dancefloors, freshly mopped.



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Becky May is currently studying for an MA in Poetry at Manchester Metropolitan University. Her poetry has been published in various journals, including PN Review and Ink, Sweat & Tears and is forthcoming in 14 Magazine. She can be found on social media @beckymaywriter
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