Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

Easter Sunday. Snow out. Fire blasting. Heating blasting. Kids playing. Hungry Hippos. Someat. Foil and boxes and plastic. Chocolate fingers. Chocolate faces. Shouting, giddy-like. Shan sleeping. Baby sleeping. Drinking coffee. Sitting. Staring out porch doors. Watching snow. Miles away. Worrying. Knowing without knowing. Hearing knock before knock. Getting up. Grunting. Kids oblivious. Me saying, Keep it down. Your mum's asleep. Ignoring me. Rowdy elephants. Up shuffling. Still tired. Clock says it's crazy o'clock. Hallway now. Moving crabways by prams. Knowing without knowing. Nicholas. Not looking at the door. An outline. Knowing without knowing. Nicholas. Door locked. Keys nowhere. Saying, Hang on a minute. 'S locked. Oblique shape shifting. Pissed off. Back in the living room. Scrabbling about. Keys hanging from porch door. Banging. Nicholas banging. The base of his palm. Bang bang bang. Saying, Taleb. Don't fuck me about. Hurrying. Saying, I'm coming aren't I? Kids still oblivious. Hurrying crabways. Prams up on two legs. Saying alright, alright. Nicholas banging. Right up until door yanked open. Bang bang bang bang. Wanting to say someat. Like, what the fuck, man? What the fuck? But not saying owt. Holding breath. If anything. Nicholas stepping back. Off the top step. Into the street. Arms across his chest. His car parked. Door open. Motor running. Face a blank. Mouth a gash. Wrapped up. The navy overcoat. The hat. The scarf. Smart shoes rigid in the snow mush. Says, Get your coat. Get coat.

*

Leaving Longsight. Heading into town. Heating on high. Knowing without knowing. The dread. Thinking: Shan. A distraction. Even though. How pissed she'll be. Him leaving. Her asleep. Leaving kids playing. The shit he'll cop. Smirking. Until Nicholas asks: How much you know? Windows fogging. The heat. How close. Sweating. Replying: 'Bout what? Knowing. One word. Nas. Nas, he says. Fuckin' Nas. Sucking lips. Not speaking. Looking at Nicholas. Eyes off road. Saying, Not much. Nicholas grunting. Not much is fucking some. Spill. Both hands on wheel. Jerking shoulders. Tipping his head. I know he dint show. Last week He dint show. Dint answer his phone. Dint answer his door. Not saying: I know he int well. Not saying: I know vere's shit goin' on. Not saying: Swinton. Not saying that. Not saying any of that. Nicholas settling. Arms unhooking. Fumbling for fags. He's under the doc. That's what I heard. Jerking his chin. Oh yeah? Eyes on the road. Yeah. He's - Nicholas puffing. Having fits. Puff puff puff. Fits? Puff puff puff. Since when? Going through the motions. Asking to be asking. Knowing without knowing. Fuck knows. Both of them knowing. Neither of them saying. Dry swallowing. Puff puff puff.

*

Weeks previous. Swinton at night. Three of them. Garden jumping. Nicholas with a plan. Taleb and Nas following. Over a lawn. Over a fence. Behind a shed. Over a gravel drive. Over another fence. Lawns, sheds, fences, hedges. Careful on gravel. Looking out for toys. Watching for backlights. No-one talking. Nicholas hunched over. Sawn-off in his coat. Taleb with the bat. Nas with the machete. All part of the job. Knowing without knowing. Outside a house. Before you even register. Up outside steps. Before you even
register. One kick. Back door gone. Three of them. Piling through. Hauling ass. Kitchen dark. Yelling. Into a long through room. Living room, dining room. Young lad. In his twenties. Laptop. Standing. Them yelling. Fucking car keys! Kid standing. Hands up. Panic eyed. White. Movement upstairs. On the stairs. Someone coming. Bang-bang-bang-bang. Rowdy elephant. Them yelling. Give us! Your fucking car keys! There she is. Blonde lass. Maybe eight months pregnant. Big as a ship. Nicholas yelling. Now. Fucking now! The young lad wild. Don't hurt her. Take what you want. Don't hurt her. Before you even register.

*

In the car. Between Prestwich and Middleton. Traffic lights. Roads dead. Coal dust sky. Nicholas talking. There's a doctor. Nas 's been seein'. Taleb nodding. Nicholas not seeing. You fuckin' listenin'? Eyes off road. Catching the lights change. Doing nothing. Looking at Nicholas. Nodding. Looking him in the eyes. Nodding. Nicholas furious. Alright then. Jerking his chin. Lights have changed. Turning back. Eyes on road. Switching up. Moving off. He wouldn't say owt. This doctor. Kept on. His oath. He cunt. Had to persuade him. Dint I? Nicholas chuckles. A snake sloughing off its skin. Asking: What ja find out? Knowing without knowing. Like I say. He's been havin' fits. He had a fit after -Nicholas jerks his chin. Not saying Swinton. Both of them knowing. Wondering if Swinton was a trigger. Wondering if Swinton set him off. Knowing without knowing. Then again later. At home. In his kid's room. Doctor called em Grand mals. Says he's been having Grand Mals. Regular as clockwork. Stretching fingers. Palms sweating. Taking a practice breath. Exhaling. Another practice breath. And then, So? Saying So like he was dropping a stone off a bridge into a fast flowing river. Nicholas snapping. So what?Wanting to say So again. As in: So where are we going then? Or. Knowing without knowing. So why are we going where we're going then? Resisting. Knowing how Nicholas gets. Saying instead: What are we doing? Nicholas parroting. What are we doing? Head cocked. Smiling. Patronising. Dangerous. We're paying him a visit. Pushing his luck. Needing to know. Knowing without knowing. Why? He can't help it. Can he? Dead skin chuckling. I don't give a fuck. Taleb. I don't give a fuck whether he can help it or not. Nicholas stabbed the dashboard with his index finger. I'll tell you something. Loose lips sink ships. You heard that expression? Loose lips sink ships. Knowing without knowing. Knowing without knowing. Knowing without knowing. He's not going to say anything, Nicholas. Your jaws lock When you have a fit. He won't say anything. Nicholas snorted all derisive-like. Bollocks to that. He needs sorting. End of.