Page 30 - WTP Vol. V #5

CharliE Baylis
How Will I Know if it’s a Dream?
the abandoned motorbike on its side in the snow
a boxer dumped to the canvas after the rounds got heavy
the footprints leading to the cliffs
the sweat that slipped from the boxer’s brow
the sweat that mixed with blood and spit like a stream turning past a motorbike lying heavy in defeat
you drove to where the road disintegrated killed the engine and spoke
of a dream where you were played
by an actor
who whispered in your ear
that you never
were here that you would never wake up and then you
gathered up the light around you
and ran
the coastal road splits over the cliffs
and disintegrates where the wind slits the poppies’ throats so red can bleed over the yellow leaves of autumn, dark cuts emerge on the boxers brow lying heavy in the ring
like a motorbike abandoned in the snow
beneath the cliff the beach shone as if celestial
I promised
the tide would turn
I promised
we would go down to the sea
build a bonfire from driftwood
and speak of beautiful days like dreams I told you even on the darkest night
I could still tell the colour
of every passing car
the coastal road runs through my mind like a memory
runs through my mind, the split in a stream of blood, sweat and spit
never knowing when the dream ends
the body on the rocks, in the waves, shipwrecked the motorbike on its side in the snow
the boxer in the ring, defeated.
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Baylis is the poetry editor of Review 31. He has published two pamphlets, Elizabeth (Agave Press) and hilda doolittle´s carl jung t-shirt (Erbacce). A poem of his is featured in the Best New British and Irish Poets 2017.