The past is another planet
(after Jane Yeh)
Rose-tinted, cosmic, no glasses. There’s honey whiskey
and crème de menthe all for free. Black lights, dry ice.
Karaoke with everyone’s favourite songs. They kiss
each other’s cheeks then go out for cheeseburgers
shimmering with sweat but still-perfect eyeshadow
and hair still soft despite all the dancing.
Lakes are gold or full of glitter, and oceans are full of
untouchable whales, keeping secrets like pies full of
who knows what fruit. Kittens sleep in baskets and
learn piano in Paris, drinking only their mother’s milk,
forever velveteen. There are ice cream cakes, barbie cakes, beaches
like where you once put chocolates in her mouth and felt them melt.
A whole side of the planet is that scene from George of the Jungle (1997).
Night in the rainforest. Crocodile tooth, cereal box ring. No people here
to look stupid for. Just George. I think I know why the dog
howls at the moon. It’s okay to watch the rest of the movie.
Or just that part. You could even be in the scene,
watching, or rollicking around with gorillas.
There is no cashew stir fry seeping from its box
onto the leather back seat of a Prius. No next-day bruises
turning purple, blue, bile-green. No phone calls that make you
run, sneakers on the wrong feet, to a dark valley house where
they are holding each other, asking who found him
and not how it happened.
The planet is a flocked glass fortress. Nobody here wants to
hear about it. We visit and weep. We beat our chests
or watch from the window like Bella in New Moon.
We want to lock it up but we keep finding keys,
made of bone or silver. Too many to try,
too many to swallow.
On the planet nobody says what if. Nobody says back when
because there is no such thing. They say thank you
and mean it. Every baby is the nativity scene baby,
smelling of lemon and butter, never stolen.
Blood oranges are always in season.
The water is always warm enough to swim in.
Leah Dodd is based in Pōneke/Wellington. In 2021 she completed an MA at the International Institute of Modern Letters, and won the Biggs Family Prize in Poetry. Her poems can be found in various places, but most of them are in her forthcoming collection Past Lives, to be released with Te Herenga Waka University Press in early 2023. Her published work is collated at leah-dodd.com.