Clot
Awake.
The road
is a tunnelled sea
of black-red bumpers,
circulation
thick and stop-start.
Granite arches of yellow
narrow the lanes, from Ulnar
to Basilicus,
sludging up the traffic
into inky gasps of movement.
So I take the Cephalica
up to the lungs.
I drop some friends off there.
They said “we’re just passing
through. The heart is the place to stop.”
Joe Castle is a third year student of Creative Writing at the University of Northampton.