Accident
Somebody help us - there’s been an accident.
Nothing could come to the good with so much blood
spilt; its sick as a hospital. Certainly
someone is dying or already dead,
and there’s only the two of us; laid out limbs
askew like a wreck. It must be one of us.
Are you in pain are you injured where are you
bleeding? Have you a bandage? Darling,
squeeze my hand if you feel me. Please
keep breathing. How could it get so cold?
Lie still. We will make you a torniquet. Blink
if you hear me. Try, if you can, to pray.
Are we abandoned? There is no ambulance
plummeting into our crash scene screaming
life out of death. What can become of us?
Love, don’t leave me. There’s been an accident.
Page(s) 20
magazine list
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- 14
- Acumen
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- Ambit
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- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
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- Dream Catcher
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- French Literary Review, The
- Frogmore Papers, The
- Global Tapestry
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- Interpreter's House, The
- Iota
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- Lamport Court
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- Magma
- Matchbox
- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
- Moodswing
- Neon Highway
- New Welsh Review
- North, The
- Oasis
- Obsessed with pipework
- Orbis
- Oxford Poetry
- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
- Poetry Review, The
- Poetry Salzburg Review
- Poetry Scotland
- Poetry Wales
- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
- Rain Dog
- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
- Smiths Knoll
- Smoke
- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The