becoming a street lamp

poems by Georgina Wilding

Becoming a Street Lamp

I stood on the pavement, up close to someone’s wall
and became a street lamp.
It wasn’t difficult.
I outstretched both my arms and held a cigarette by the tip of its butt,
stood on my toes and willed it so.

That’s when I learnt I could will things.
Before long I could rustle like any good bush,
so convincing small bugs would cocoon on my leaves
and dogs would run past without sniffing me out.  

I was proudest when I learnt to be a meal,
would watch men eat chunks of me and think
how nutritious I am, how satisfying.
Prouder still when I learnt I could choke them on the way down.

I could be the coffin they were buried in, too,
cradle them softly in the mud and then slip out,
let them lay there, naked as the day they laid with me,
and upload a selfie next to the headstone titled ‘werk.’

•

Vitamin D

There’s something already in our skin,
some Prohormone that waits for sun to stamp its ticket
and set it on its way.

It moves through the blood stream, liver, kidney
and eventually stands in our bones 
fortifying us with scaffolds and grout. 

I’ve been offering cheap entry fees to small people,
have hired a tour guide who shows them round,
talks through the artefacts

and apologises for sections closed off for refurbishment -
there’s not been much sun of late.
But they don’t seem to mind –

and Rome is a city of ruins.
According to reviews, the chipped tooth is a thing of beauty from the inside,
the jagged roof like cut crystal shatters the light and people like to dance in it -

There’s been requests for weddings in that room
but I’m not sure about hosting a party I can’t technically attend
and how would I explain the music playing every time I opened my mouth?

At closing time, some of them stay
sneak into corners or wrap themselves under folds
until the lights go out and its safe to reappear.

Of course I don’t tell on them,
partly because I admire their bravery,
and partly because I like that I’m somewhere someone wants to be.

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Georgina Wilding is a born and bred Nottinghamite who, after studying Creative and Professional Writing at the University of Nottingham, went on to set up the poetry publishing house, Mud Press.

She has performed her work both nationally and internationally at events such as the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and Off Milosz festival in Poland. As well as this, she has been commissioned by organisations such as The Royal Shakespeare Company and BBC Radio Nottingham to write and perform, and has been invited to teach poetry for programmes such as the City Art's Refugee Forum collaboration, and Redhill Academy's specialisms week.

She has been published in literary journals such as “The Rialto” and “Kontent”, and in anthologies such as Peace Builders “Small Acts of Kindness” and Jubilee Press’ “The ‘art of Nottingham”.

In 2017 she was proudly crowned Nottinghams' first Young Poet Laureate, and in January 2019 was awarded a new position as the Creative Director of Nottingham Poetry Festival. You can learn more about Georgina's work by visiting www.georginawildingpoet.co.uk