‘Window Seat’ by George Aird

We measure the alcove beneath the window, 
or try to, while the cat imagines 

the world as a silent movie. 
Of their craft,

a famous director said
you’ve got to leave enough space 

for the outside to get in.
Or something like that. Anyway,

isn’t it funny that the pictures on our walls 
are from galleries and not of each other? 

(clearly, no is the answer.) 

For a change, I try leaving the bathroom window 
open, letting all manner of undesirables 

inside. A whole afternoon of rain, 
a wasp drowning in the bathtub.

That night we have it out while 
Huw Edwards signs the news.

Nothing is ever quite lived in until 
after something has lived in it.

George Aird is a writer based in the North West of England. His previous work has appeared in The North Magazine, The Interpreter’s House, Under the Radar Magazine, Birmingham Literary Journey, Eye Flash Poetry, and Ink, Sweat & Tears, among other publications, and in 2019, his poetry was shortlisted for the Maírtin Crawford award. Follow him on Twitter: @G_Aird.

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