Tethered
Beneath the pantiled roof, joists, rafters,
insulating foam…
Beneath the humdrum conversation…
Beneath the soft wool pile of the rug…
Beneath the woven seagrass
bonded to its rubber underlay…
Beneath the concrete screed…
Beneath the visqueen membrane
keeping down the damp…
Beneath the hardcore, the rubbled brick,
blinded with sand…
And tethered to a tethering ring of iron
bolted into bedrock…
A shred of rotting, tethering rope
grimed with blood
And the muffled squeal that won’t let go.
from The Bulmer Murder (Recent Work Press, 2017)
Paul Munden 