What I Should Have Worn at My Wedding

By LIESL JOBSON

 

Potato skins, not peach skin satin,
pills, not pearls for buttons at my wrists,
onions in my bouquet, for coming tears.

A headband of fists, not fuchsias.
The lilies should have stayed in the field,
calfskin slippers would have looked better
on the unslaughtered cow.

Our guests can’t take back the gifts
and I can’t unwind 15 seconds
on the clock—let alone 15 years.

Last week the diamond fell from my ring
while I watched shopping centre clowns
and the cleaner swept it away with popcorn
like so much confetti.

 

 

Liesl Jobson is a writer, photographer, and musician living in Cape Town.

Click here to purchase Issue 04

What I Should Have Worn at My Wedding

Related Posts

Gabriella Fee

June 2022 Poetry Feature: Gabriella Fee

GABRIELLA FEE
Death springs from me like a hothouse flower. / My mother swaddles me in terrycloth / and vigils me for three days in her bed. / Pillbox. Rice and lentils. Kettle. Psalm. / She dims the lights as though I were a moth. / She combs my hair.

Image of Zhang Qiaohui and Yilin Wang's headshots.

Translation: “Soliloquy” by Zhang Qiaohui

ZHANG QIAOHUI
You know where Grandma is buried, but do not know / where Grandma’s Grandma is / Jiaochang Hill’s graves have long been displaced, now covered with lush greenery / In the mortal world, a saying, “to have no resting place even after death” / I stand at the old burial ground.

Tree

May 2022 Poetry Feature

By ELIZABETH METZGER
For now, let us choose not to remember / who said History repeats as Tragedy then Farce, / and who else / repeated such nonsense / with variations because, friends, allow me / to be pedantic, just this moment. History repeats / as Tragedy more than once.