The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.
Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Thursday, 9 February 2017
Lost Species poem 22: Rachel McCarthy
It always adds an edge to a poem when two apparently divergent disciplines come together. Hope you all enjoy this one.
Millions of years on
Megalodon swims its half ghost
through the ether of museum-space
part-shark part-reconstructed cartilage
top-jaw hoisted for a pig-eyed profile
made an example of.
But who’s to say unequivocally
that at this exact moment she’s not
holed-up in the wreck of an old war
nursing in the cold vault of our history
or charnel-mouthed over its huddled bodies
who’s to say there’s no glint in her dead eyes.
After all where better to see-out extinction
than from beyond the last glimmer of sunlight
where her movements sound like whispers
in our deep water soundings.
Who’s to say she isn’t just beyond our reach
Who’s to say she shouldn’t stay that way.
© Rachel McCarthy
Element won the Laureate's Choice award 2015 – picked by Carol Ann as marking ‘one of the brightest new voices in British Poetry...brilliantly bold.’
You can read more at www.rachelmccarthy.com.
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