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

Poetry Library Southbank Centre - The Poetry Library housing the Arts Council Collection at Southbank Centre

« Previous item
Contents of this issue
Next item »

Antonia Banyard

print this page

Swimming Under, a conception story

I’ve always wanted a pool
in our basement. The slow delicious slide through
darkness. How can I remember my own beginning so clearly
when my mother has forgotten? I’m not curious about details
of sex, but the moment of me, hours later -- was it really
how I remember? I know mothers
whose bodies sent strident signals. One lay
on a beach in the Caribbean, her toes cleaving
to the sand, when her body suddenly began
to peal, a bell in high winds. Another was steering
a sailboat, felt something slide through
her belly like a bubble bursting. When she looked
down, a rope lay wound around her hand, an embrace.
                                                                                They knew.
                                                        My mother just smiles vaguely
when I ask, continues reading. Oh, how can I
remember? she says. I must have been asleep. Did my father
wander the hallway that night, a foot mysteriously
cramped, was he searching for a lost button? Why do I find
myself pressed against the glass of aquariums, always wanting
to dive? Why do I wake to the sound of a key
clicking into place, iron teeth finding a groove,
a gate swinging open?

 

Page(s) 155

Back to top