Poetry | C.P. Nield

Rogue

A line forms a crease on the belly of the earth
and moves –
moves west above

an invisible trench,
where mountain peaks glitter with white
marlin.

Leviathan broods among valleys of wing-tips.
The lusca streams bubbles
the bandwidth of skulls.

A vast oblivion gives birth;
the verb ‘infect’ reels between ‘I’ and ‘you’;
the GPS satellite shrieks data.

A solitary wave quickens its own world,
a surge from root-throb to green
avalanche.

This one wave is the only world,
the last mass gathering
of Atlantic salt.

So the lungs expand.
So syntax patterns the end.
So the line forms, curves, gains power, breaks –

in droplets,
protests, bronchi, stanzas,
frequencies, projections, morgues.


C.P. Nield’s poetry has appeared in New Poetries IV (Carcanet) and journals like New Humanist, The North, The London Magazine, Ambit, Popshot, Magma and The Rialto. As a copywriter, he has worked with a number of environmental charities including Earthwatch and Friends of the Earth. 

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