June

My name is June; you have to say it like ‘sex’
softly bright
like it’s a pink toaster
have some toast
and sun beams on the walls
serenely flitting
like vitamins pulsing
like music, for health
_

PLEASE! Reach into my
chakra intelligence centres
Make. Me. A. Radio.
Please – let me eat paninis and wear hats
Watch me utilise the Alexander technique!
Let me live only in pockets, todays
_

Now
picture the pull of string from above
I gift you the posture of del-ic-i-ous smug
The brash drinking of coffee free from guilt
Because you can’t resist
a headache
next to a river
_

And just like that
Nobody in the beer garden suspects
I don’t know the words to Chelsea Dagger
Goddess June, hello!!

Florence Campbell-Gray is a poet, seamstress and soup maker based in Glasgow. After graduating a BA Costume Design course at Nottingham Trent, she studied poetry with Faber Academy and has had work featured in online magazine Skirting Around. You can find her on Instagram at @florencecgray