Judith Taylor

Siren

Even my name
makes you think of it.

Sax-o-phone – machinery
and base desire, in one.
And all your fantasies

of the low dives you hadn’t the word to get into
hang around me
like the scent of a morning after:

whisky; stale tobacco;
Midnight in Paris.

I’m your only soundtrack
for seduction, and
in the cold of an empty night
your consolation prize:

a dancehall Sphinx
you flatter yourself you’d guess
if you ever stooped to try.

Ah
if only you knew, Milord
what my song shelters.

Deep down
in my liquor-tinted, melancholy voice
as I take my solo

there is something stirring. Old
laughter, dark and blue as a shadow
and nobody’s but my own.

Copyright © Judith Taylor 2014

Judith Taylor comes from Perthshire and now lives and works in Aberdeen. She has had poems published in a number of magazines and is the author of two pamphlet collections, Earthlight (Koo Press, 2006) and Local Colour (Calder Wood Press, 2010).

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About sunnydunny

Poet, publisher, gardener
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