Martha Bird is a 27 year old writer, filmmaker and political activist originally from the north of England, currently based in (the much sunnier) Rome. Her work addresses themes of gender and the body; place and borders; poverty and wealth.
The greens of the cyprus
and the olive trees haunt me,
so for now I will be
Blue
GLI ALBERI SONO IN FIORI
Forehead kisses
over coffee
Come here,
lean closer,
I want to taste the morning breeze
and church bells
on your tongue.
BREAKFAST IN TANGIERS
Goats paraded through hazy golden streets. Call for prayer, call for prayer, another joint, another crossword, another lazy hand brushed over the breakfast table. Seagulls screeched in the Kasbah. Honey, mint tea and hash on your breath, sunlight spilled over tan-washed rooftops as pomegranates grew ripe in their trees. Winter had no place there.
Did you notice? You said. The waiter’s beginning to recognise us.
Poetry in this post: © Martha Bird
Published with the permission of Martha Bird