I Used to Eat KFC Zingers Without Hating Myself
Order cat litter off Amazon. Light a fig
candle. The clouds are a paper mouth.
Another Tesco express. Someone else
has died on Facebook. The cat licks me.
Feel endorsed. Wonder if my therapist
thinks I’m a brat, imagine her telling me
I’m her favourite. Get sad that cancer
got Alan Rickman. Spray some vitamin d
under my tongue, buy a Himalayan rock
salt candle holder. Get milk drunk
off my oat latte. Man on the Luton train
pushes into me. I ask him to hold me
till I’m gorgeous again. Handle my cat’s
shit. Listen back to my own voice notes
several times. Speculate how carpet shops
still make money. Dreams of dying.
Watch the world’s strongest man.
Imagine my father’s angry prostate.
Most men on this train could kill me.
I’m a pig. I need a pat on the back.
I need a thigh gap. I use emojis to
avoid conflict. Worry I’m a gentrifier.
Watch docs about murdered women.
Mortgages. Cognitive processes. Search
for wifi extra in between tunnels to send
a gif that everyone’s seen before. Someone
I know has won an award. I have a memory
of your love like a lodged fish bone. Before
you died, I cut your hair.
CECILIA KNAPP is a poet, playwright and fiction writer. Commissions include the TATE, The Guardian and the BBC. She was featured in Vogue as one of the UK’s young poets to watch. She was shortlisted for the role of London Laureate in 2018 and shortlisted for the 2020 Outspoken poetry prize.