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From EXTINCT SPECIES OF THE BRITISH ISLES
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GREY WHALE
500BC
The song is not saying
look at the failure of western governments
the song is not saying
the chip of my heart hurts
where I was left
the chip of my heart curdles
dreaming about him thinking about him
smelling a perfume a bit like his and nearly
falling over
the song booms
transmits a hieroglyph of brine and slippage
the song is not saying
he was so tall and thin
the song is not saying
how can I understand any kind
of sensible universe when he is
somewhere in bed with a full
ashtray and I am here and beyond
sick and beyond the case of
my skin
the song is not saying
cleaning workers should be paid
as much as the director of the company
the song is not saying
remember that long drive
through the desert
the song wants
a sphinx
gaping and silent
the song is blue and huge
it has never touched soil
the song is not saying
please come home
in a way that is so beautiful
it becomes shameless
the song is not saying
I would rather die than know
what it looks like to see him
kissing from the outside
the song is not saying
I will do anything
although I said I wouldn’t
I will
the song is black
then it is green
then it is grey
then it is black again
the song sounds like praise
but no
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FLAME BROCADE MOTH
1919
I was unsure what to say to a person
who was in the process of dying
my chest hurt and my eyes hurt
it was a very bright day
my friend was on the lip of the
world
her hair looked awful
my friend stayed in her chair
but she was gathering up the
leaves outside
she was gathering up the branches
the snow before anyone else has looked
at it
the thin peels of rain
the gutted fish
the orange ball which fell behind the
shed in 2007
the puddle full of motorcycle oil
my womb was throbbing
to remake her
but she was doing it herself
there was a fire and it cleared
the forest floor of bracken
clean dirty burning
this unwieldy flood
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REBECCA TAMÁS was born in London, and is currently studying for a PhD in Creative and Critical Writing at the University of East Anglia. Her pamphlet, The Ophelia Letters, came out from Salt in 2013, and was shortlisted for Best Poetry Pamphlet in the Saboteur Awards. Her work has most recently been published in Oxford Poetry, Kaffeklatsch and Best British Poetry 2014.
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Read more by Rebecca Tamás:
Poem at Poems In Which
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