The Great Auk – New Poem 1st draft

The Great Auk

You’ve gone hunting,

venturing to the outer edges of Reykjavik

where we haven’t wandered before.


My washing is making calming noises in the machine,

and I’m enjoying leaning back against warm, solid walls.

It’s something I haven’t done in a while and

I have nowhere else to be except here.


Nobody, but you, had asked about the flightless,

five kilo bird, and you were so excited when you heard

it hadn’t been lost in the flood. It was beautiful

to see you smile until your eyes watered.


I take my time, folding my clothes,

making sure the seams on the sleeves

of my t-shirt meet together.

They are warm and smell like home


Upstairs, there is a typewriter.

I desperately want to write you a note,

congratulating you on getting this far,

but the ribbon is all wreaked. Children,

standing all forlorn with inky fingertips

are the most probable suspects.


You come back, ill from too many chilli rice crackers

but triumphant. The hunt was successful

and you have photographs.