Poem : Girl Transmuted

 

Cameraworks, by David Hockney, 1984 

 Must be born a wartime map

the way I deal with empty plans –

privy to sadistic secrets, while laying on their lap.

 

 Must be born a boat, after a storm

treated with a tenderness unfamiliar, a child or

chipped wooden slats?

 

 Must be born a flame and a mirror

mistaking the reflection for a twin

aching for understanding.

 

I must be born a human girl

Screaming wailing aching red plum skin

being born, having already sinned.