She Drives as I Scribble on London

I wear my French bodice and you don’t even notice
I dread turning into a submissive housewife
Will you still hug me after we are married?
I understand the off-side rule in football better than many men I know
When I’m premenstrual, I want to smash glass
I can’t bear the thought of dead meat in my stomach
London is a city of roundabouts
This is not New York
We give way to other drivers
The best view is from the Waterloo bridge
I don’t want a dowry—that’s so South Asian
I never ever indulge in malicious gossip
We have our demons
When I was a child in Mombasa, I jumped rope with the cook’s daughter

By Rafiq Kathwari — his new collection of poems, “My Mother’s Scribe” (Yoda Press 2020), is available here. Please do read. Thank you.