'Psycho' by Allan Lake

I used to steal into the steam

while she was showering,

slither like a jungle snake

across the floor to silently

spy on her flesh shedding

rain. I couldn’t refrain;

I’d seize her ankles and yell

PSYCHO!

Smash! Went her warm calm;

she’d freak and scream and

be angry for an hour and

not let me touch her

for at least four more.

We’ve mellowed since then.

I don’t bother slithering across

the floor anymore and before

I enter I say, Here comes the psycho.

She replies, Close the door, Psycho,

you’re letting in the cold.

And then I gently

seize her ankles.

Allan Lake, a stray from Saskatchewn, now writes poetry in Melbourne, Australia.

His latest chapbook, ‘My Photos of Sicily’, was published by Ginninderra Press, 2020.

Recent Posts