Continue

Annabel Mahoney
from ANC060: St. Crispin in the Trenches

What the Mud Said

(All alone and I feel)
the mud, it said, and she
(and it’s always she)
my worm-holes all are veins

What the Mud Said was
here and
here and
here and
here the mud
was old

Possess them not with 
the sense of reckoning,

the mud is beside me and
(and i have no blood left)
there’s nobody here but the rain
(so i will take his breath)

What the Mud Said was
i’ve seen i’ve
seen i’ve
seen i’ve
seen you
all before

Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins
To give each naked curtle-axe a stain,
but i die in a space
between the breath and the
half breath; the man who 
never knew he was dying

What the Mud Said was
took I
took I
never thought I’d live
with you

Annabel Mahoney

Annabel Mahoney is the Editor-in-Chief of the Wellington Street Review and the Creative Director of Royal Rose Magazine. She has been widely published in a number of literary journals and anthologies; most recently Burning House Press, Ghost City Review, Déraciné Magazine, Mookychick and RECLAIM: An Anthology of Women’s Poetry.