<\/p>\n
Lost Causes<\/strong><\/p>\n So long ago, that newsflash, a crash at Lockerbie. Or the night they brought the ruptured aorta to theatre. Alone, one ice-black night, I bend to look into the wreck; They say policemen don\u2019t remember their \u2018collars\u2019 <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Tom Moody<\/strong> has had articles and short stories published. He has had a prize winning short radio script broadcast. His poems have been published in Orbis<\/em> and he has an MA in Creative writing from Newcastle University.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Lost Causes So long ago, that newsflash, a crash at Lockerbie. Barely sixty miles from where I worked Were we on take; were they opening theatres? Switchboard were laconic; the protective joke. I can still hear the voice- tight and terse The flat chill of the words. It\u2019s mortuary space we need tonight not […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13727","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13727","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13727"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13727\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14099,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13727\/revisions\/14099"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13727"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13727"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13727"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nBarely sixty miles from where I worked
\nWere we on take; were they opening theatres?
\nSwitchboard were laconic; the protective joke.
\nI can still hear the voice- tight and terse
\nThe flat chill of the words.
\nIt\u2019s mortuary space we need tonight
\nnot nurses.<\/p>\n
\nWhen we incised the distended belly
\nthe redness rose like a wave, welling
\nfrom deep inside. A rising bubble that burst crimson
\nonto the floor. The sound of the splash,
\nthe futile suction swirling
\na life away.<\/p>\n
\nturn off the engine as I check the driver. He\u2019s out cold,
\nhis head has starred the windscreen. Fuel floods on to the road.
\nI reach in, release the seatbelt from its catch and calculate,
\nwhat odds on ignition, if and how long
\nI\u2019ll try to get him out
\nbefore we fry?<\/p>\n
\nthey recall the ones that got away.
\nSome nights, when I\u2019m well down the bottle,
\nmy mind draws me back: to the blood,
\nthe black ice, the snap of bone,
\nthe spite of fire.
\nThe night-time phone.
\n <\/p>\n