Doesn’t Like Fireworks


Doesn’t Like Fireworks

She’s hiding with the dog behind the sofa,
to comfort his quivers, honest, she’s fine.
It’s all going off outside. Much closer
to home than she’d like. But she’s fine.

It’s only 8pm – she’ll turn up the telly.
It’s X-Factor and of course it’s all shite.
She never even liked sparklers, as a kid.
Still doesn’t now and she’s twenty-nine.

And they’re still asking her to bonfires:
parties for burning, red cheeks and beer.
Workmates, her friends, even her folks.
Short memories. Blast out that old fear!

No way. Best stay shut in with the dog.
Even when he’s popping nervous guffs.
Vintage skin grafts invisible to the eye.
itch when she grips the remote too tight.


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18 responses to “Doesn’t Like Fireworks

  1. Great poem! My animals are terrified, I hate how distressed they get. Some idiots outside now as I type are letting off continuous bangs, I want to slap them!!! Lol x

  2. Those final two lines. Truly brilliant

  3. I think my cat has PTSD, because she hates firecrackers, thunderstorms and hissing sounds.

  4. I love how you tell the whole story so smoothly, in the end! Holly, this is another amazing poem! When are you doing a book? Keep us posted as I will be in the front of that line! :)

  5. Wasn’t expecting the end – been quiet around here so far…….

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