The author
apologises for her tardiness
in getting her contributor’s bio
to the editor.
The author
lives in a city
and enjoyed the quiet ritual
of suburban life.
The author
frequently questions the sanity
of editors who
routinely reject,
politely,
her work.
The author
never has enough time
to write.
Or sleep.
Or read.
The author
strives to have enough time
for making love.
The author
is constantly amazed
at her own ability
to be disorganised
and has learnt
never to think
“at least
it can’t get any worse
than this”.
The author
would like to buy
a winning lotto ticket
and spend her days
looking out over
terraces of olives and grapes.
While writing poetry.
The author
always struggles
to find the right balance
when writing bio notes
- not too serious,
not too funny,
not too conceited,
not too much information
but not too little.
The author
has a particular fondness
for black clothes
and stylish hats.
The author
wishes her boyfriend
would occasionally
scrub the kitchen floor.
Or clean the toilet.
The author
would like it
if the words came to her
a bit more consistently,
a bit more constantly.
Just a bit more.
The author
thanks the editor
for their time,
consideration
and fine taste
in poems.
First published in takahē 85 (2015)