‘Named Tom’ by Miranda Peake

Before this thing was even new, I took
money from its wallet and paid someone
to teach me how to drive. To escape the land
I’d lived on since the day you looked about
and almost sniffed the air before declaring
I hadn’t bowled you over. Smoked haddock
and potato salad waited with my hands
upon the table, saw me reaching for expressions
that would do in public. Saw my haircut
and my jumper as we left into October. That was
what you’d call a break up, but like magnets
we sprang back, muddled up the months
and started June again in mid-November.
Lived out the year in beds, mixed our limbs up
come the morning. Loved the love you keep away
from family and friends. Those cars always crash
and my body stores the ache of it long after
everyone has asked it not to. I walk, but I don’t
walk far – I choose a man who shares your name
and for now the months fall back into their places
and I remember winter follows autumn.

From issue #1: autumn/winter 2015

About the Author
Miranda Peake is a London-based artist and poet. Her poem ‘Florence’ won the 2014 Mslexia Poetry Competition. Her work has also appeared in Magma.