Wild Court

An international poetry journal based in the English Department of King’s College London

‘And the award for best actress goes to’: a poem by Polly McCormack


    And the award for best actress goes to


The days bleed into each other
like a radiator. I have trained myself
to not think of you, it is my special talent.
I sing with Molly in the kitchen and pretend
I have always been fatherless.
Waking up in someone else’s house
is my best performance, wiping my shoes
on their doormat, like I have lived with them for
thirty years. Making breakfast in the kitchen,
like I picked out the tiles.
I pretend I am married to every person I sleep next to,
and in my dreams you gave a speech.