Poem
John Siddique
ANNA
ANNA
ANNA
Fun loving criminals were playing on my ex’s stereo.Her flatmate Anna came home.
All the horniness in all the world charged me
like a duracell. Made a mag lite of my eyes
A heat seeking missile of my skin.
Every fluid nerve of me zoned & hot & embarrassed.
Running around all whacked up on scooby snacks.
Hello I said, before losing all power of speech.
Everything was wrong. No satisfaction anywhere.
I never let on, but my skin burned day and night
for a taste of her.
© 2005, John Siddique
From: The Prize
Publisher: The Rialto, Norwich
From: The Prize
Publisher: The Rialto, Norwich
John Siddique
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1964)
John Siddique is a poet, whose first full collection of poetry The Prize (Rialto) was published last year. He is a co-author of Four Fathers (Route) and the editor of Transparency (Crocus Books). His poem ‘Variola’ received a nomination for best single poem for 2004’s Forward Prize and his new collection, Poems From a Northern Soul, will be published this autumn.
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Poems of John Siddique
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ANNA
Fun loving criminals were playing on my ex’s stereo.Her flatmate Anna came home.
All the horniness in all the world charged me
like a duracell. Made a mag lite of my eyes
A heat seeking missile of my skin.
Every fluid nerve of me zoned & hot & embarrassed.
Running around all whacked up on scooby snacks.
Hello I said, before losing all power of speech.
Everything was wrong. No satisfaction anywhere.
I never let on, but my skin burned day and night
for a taste of her.
From: The Prize
ANNA
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