Poetry Thursday this week asks for humourous poetry. Though I certainly have a sense of humour, I'm not renowned for my humourous verse. I have performed this poem on occasion and the first time I read it, I was entirely disconcerted by the laughter from the audience. I had been quite upset by the incident in the poem when it had happened (this poem is largely autobiographical). However on reflection I realised it could be sort of funny (though not for me personally!). So what do you think?
Coming of Age
Scared of your slender blossoming beauty,
Mother dresses you in baggy clothes,
chops off your auburn hair,
bans make-up, jewellery and perfume,
points out fat-legged girls in mini-skirts
to say ‘no-one looks good like that!’
You return from your first term away
bright with friendships, ideas
and a rucksack of fashionable new clothes.
One afternoon, while you’re out,
she black sacks your prized new possessions,
visits Oxfam but describes a theft.
Thin-lipped, she marches you to BHS
for modest brown tweed
to mark your new adulthood.
Next term end, she puzzles
over your absence, your
postcards from Paris and Milan.
first published in Envoi.