Lauren Sheerman

SOMETIMES I SIT IN MY CAR

wearing my favourite shirt like I’m real
I pretend to be bored in traffic & ok I’ll sing along
& roll my eyes & pretend to be rushing & yes
I’ll stand in a queue at the supermarket with my arms crossed
a basket of bougie food at my feet & I’ll hold my keys like I own something.
& sometimes I get home from a short trip 
to buy something I’ve forgotten but I linger outside
in my car like I have a whole family waiting for me inside
like I have so much responsibility for a happiness I don’t even know
for a life I don’t even want. & how could I it’s like craving those plastic
high heels from the 90s & there’s that smell to everything
like sweetly perfumed plastic on the bald barbie body & everything
I’d slung out of the window — a life I couldn’t see & I didn’t want it
but then my niece who is 3 reads her 2 friends who are snails a bedtime story
& they listen on a leaf in the garden to this girl who is excited for tomorrow to see her snails
as though they will be waiting & that night I linger outside longer this time
but I go in eventually & I eat peanut butter standing up at the kitchen counter
& I think can I live a life like this yes can I live like this
& I refresh my emails I open the messages on my phone 
& I open my diary at today like oh I have so much to do but really
today I have so much!

Lauren Sheerman

Art said this about his poem:

All creatures share the same energy – in their urge to live. I suppose poetry tries to find symbols for “consciousness” of that.