PRIME MINISTER MATERIAL
Gone are the days we were compelling, now we are only casual.
He is a chewy, chickeny dumpling but not prime minister material.
Autumn gives rich, swollen eyes
to Holy Innocents, I think
but sometimes coffee just goes wrong
spikes my sadness
unplugs my modem
my soup-can face.
Gone is the season our leader was sweet.
We watch him rummage the rulebook,
drink cool highland water,
go for jogs.
Our conferences always smell so crisp.
Our buffet breakfasts are endless, deserved.
Hey everyone it’s me it’s me, I’m on live TV trying to cross my legs
or clap like a nice guy or eat.
No. Like this.
We fall into armchairs. We sink into armchairs.
We kiss our partners,
our eyes dying phones.
Our lips a flicker of zingy post-its.
Surely we had something big to do what was it.
This morning I battered a spider hard hard hard with my leather boot.
Gone are the days we started well.
ANNIE KATCHINSKA was born in Moscow in 1990 and grew up in London. After graduating from Cambridge University, she spent two years living and working in Sapporo, Japan, before returning to London in 2013. Her Faber New Poets pamphlet was published in 2010, and her poems have been included in various anthologies.