‘painting for lemonade’ by sj howarth

when life gives you lemonade, there is no way to turn it back into lemons, yet this pitcher of poetry retains its acidity and leaves an occasional pip on your tongue, while reminding that each of us is a momentary citrus-tanged effervescence, caught somewhere between sharpness and flatness, in the greater froth of life

though we are taken to familiar poetic haunts – the coast, the countryside, paris – we are also drawn to more mundane locations – mcdonalds, tescos, his mum’s attic – and shown the bleakness of everyday life at one remove – from the top deck of a bus, via a commuter train window, through a living room wall –

 and yet, in those same places, we find small, brief moments that cumulatively (spoiler alert) make us realise that life IS beautiful, after all

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