It Takes A Bookshelf: Poem & Analysis

It Takes A Bookshelf

The girls cut snowflakes

out of books.

They snip and scatter confetti 

in the kitchen,

fling spines from the staircase.

We should hide the matches,

I suggest to no one in particular. They might

be gathering kindling.

The pair build and bend and break, and

blink.

I do not question why 

they choose to make Christmas decorations 

in February. 

They still exist somewhere the calendar 

doesn’t quite reach.

They peel the icing from birthday cakes,

carry broomsticks like handbags, 

and remind the Easter bunny

he is welcome here,

anytime. 

Now, 

hear them hum carols through toothpaste bubbles. 

Outside, the grown-ups dodge puddles, 

and play their games of eternal, internal 

hide and seek. 

At bathtime

the girls transform soggy pages

into paper boats

and sail a select few into another night. 

~ ~ ~

The title is a play on the phrase, 'it takes a village', but I wanted the poem to be less about what it takes to raise children (and what we give), but instead, how they use what life throws their way. How they pick their favourite parts to make the everyday playful, and reject what simply doesn't serve them. 

The flinging of spines from the staircase is intended to reference the cracking of book spines and ‘breaking’ of rules. Everyone usually encourages each other to preserve our books – to look after them. The seemingly careless behaviour and chaos are something I wanted to describe differently. To see how scribbling and scrunching and abandoning norms can lead to something good. 

So ‘carols’ and ‘toothpaste bubbles’ show a contrast of routine and tradition with fun and celebration, of finding joy in the mundane. The humming (hopefully) gives connotations of lullabies, signalling that time in this scene has passed, and we are now observing them in an evening setting. I like how bubbles almost rhymes with the end of the following line - ‘puddles’, implying an overlap. Suggesting that the barrier we create between being young and old doesn’t need to be as strong as we might think.

This is, unsurprisingly, inspired by my cousins, who are almost always cutting up my important papers and making ‘origami’ from old, unloved leaflets. They are absolute monkeys, and the future is lucky to have them. 

Thanks for reading,

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