Sophie Meredith – “Still” – Australian Poetry Slam – Bathurst

two am bring-bring burst from the line in
every known zone of time in the wintery bowels of tonight but whose news
trembles through the wires of a real telephone at this tired hour?
telemarketers have long since part their synthetic scripts
oh hi there Ms. Meredith this is just a quick courtesy call and so fear Yanks at
the lymph nodes of my throat so hard I stopped breathing hello hi darling a
voice too soft too familiar mums to be sharing anything I could bear to know
the intuition has already detonated her bulletin right in to the chilling well
of my belly which one say Isabel baby fresh love pulled too late too late for
her spin on merry-go-round earth epitaph edged across our brains before we had
even seen baby Isabel a patchwork quilt of guilt relief and grief stuffed into
her larynx mum says Lucy survived thank God
Coventry England dead on four o’clock Reece’s heart already smashed across
the violent ambivalence of a white walls scaped hospital floor is waiting to tell
his wife the Isabel after sundry months gurgling
like marshmallow in chocolate a hiccuping kickuping baby in her mother’s
womb he’s waiting to somehow find the words to say that Isabel who is still
warm in his arms Isabel whose soul is still being carried over the moon Isabel
is still. nobody mentions heaven but suddenly the word rings like a singing
bowl and what the hell will they do now sweet Isabel in the awful yelling hollow
he is waiting to see Lucy’s shiny heart crack then sink behind the bulbs of her
eyes as their insides begin to tumble he and she will just crumble

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