Hereafter/Keith’s Dream by Simon Cockle


The heart is a black box flight recorder,
crashed in a mountain range,
somewhere south of the equator.
Ventricles choke but there is no pain.
Its beat is an irregular metre.
It spills out of the cockpit, waiting
to give up its filthy secrets.


He went to a party at Muddy Water’s house
and woke up at Howlin’ Wolf’s, soaked in rye.
What chords were played and in what order?
There’s a red veil over the lampshade.
The coals of cigarettes search through
blood-clot fog above a carpet of waves
as drowned bodies bob to the surface.

Simon Cockle is a poet and writer from Hertfordshire. He writes as part of Poetry ID, a Stanza of the Poetry Society. His poems have been published in Envoi, iOTA, Prole, The Lampeter Review, Picaroon Poetry, Skylight 47, An Algebra of Owls and the London Progressive Journal, amongst others. He was invited to read at last year’s Ledbury Poetry Festival, and will be returning again this year. He teaches English at a local comprehensive school, and has a wife and daughter who nod reassuringly when he reads them his poems. More of his poems can be found at https://simoncockle.wordpress. com/

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