Aunt Sarah Rejoiced in Being Cynical by Ewen Glass

Aunt Sarah Rejoiced in Being Cynical

‘The only person you can rely on is yourself,’
she’d say until her body let her down as well.
Cancer though made her quite happy.
‘How good it is to be alive!’
she’d say until her body let her down again.
Care by care, rhythm in medicine,
she became cynical again, sad, reluctant even
to go to the bathroom at night;
it was the light at the end of a dark hallway.
I laughed when I got it, little understanding fear.
Aunt Sarah had been scared her whole life,
but before she died, medicated and terrified,
she gave us a final story to dress as defiance:
‘you just want my fucking Eames Lounge Chair.’

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Ewen Glass (he/him) is a screenwriter and poet from Northern Ireland who lives with two dogs, a tortoise and lots of self-doubt; his poetry has appeared in the likes of Okay Donkey, Maudlin House, HAD, Poetry Scotland and Ex-Puritan. His debut chapbook ‘The Art of Washing What You Can’t Touch’ is published by Alien Buddha Press.