DAY SIXTY-FIVE – Pippa Little

Enemy Within

Summer of 2015

They fall open-mouthed but silenced
through thunderstorms, sheet lightning,
fumes of meat, wet cement and drains,
falling through chewed grey litter
of lost forms, refusals, through futures
moth- and rust-corrupted by a cockroach parliament’s
clicks and scuttles, jaws like gin traps
devouring us down to our marrow
for we too are falling, only slo-mo,
dreamless, as if in mourning
while intelligence accrues in rooms
with no address, passed innocently by trains:
we fall as if distant, electrical,
estranged from the blow, its bruise
but ordinary weather closes in,
we fall as rain drips through concrete
to mark a body in its sleeping-bag,
we fall as shame feeds its spores
on the last crusts, the butts of cigarettes,
cot sheets left out in the rain,
sanctions sanctioned.
We fall into nothingness
our cockroaches call life
which, like money, is never satisfied.

 

Pippa Little is a poet who reviews and takes workshops. Overwintering came out from Carcanet in 2012 and she is currently completing a chapbook to be published in 2016. In September she takes up a Royal Literary Fellowship at The University of Newcastle

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