The rabbit darkness just beyond the headlights’ sprawl
and parcel darkness stopping up the drivers’ mouths
like oaths or part-formed words or cloth rags steeped in oil
and minor darkness pooled behind the wristwatch glass
and double darkness stowed between the mountain pines.
The shallow darkness in the footwell, lapping at
the drivers’ legs, and changeling darkness of hotels
that watch the motorway or watch the slopes beyond
and gorgon darkness bred in the Carpathians
and silty darkness skulking near a lynx or wolf.
The lack of lamps to staunch the many darknesses.
The snow poised to soak up the ski towns’ darknesses
and leave a foamy light that seems to slowly swell
and serous, ferrous, little jealous darknesses
all staggered on the strandline where the darkness was.
ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR
Jon Stone
was born in Derby and lives in London. His poems have appeared in anthologies of imitation, formal innovation, science fiction, erotic and comic book poetry. School of Forgery (Salt, 2012) brings all these elements together, while he also collates, collaborates and anthologises through Sidekick Books, the small press he runs with Kirsten Irving. He won a Society of Authors Eric Gregory Award in 2012 and the Poetry London competition in 2014.
