Ben Bransfield

 

 

 

Thaw

Leeks
and cutlery
bent beyond belief.
Hitler’s descant recorder
and the Valleys school where
they had sacrificed one meerkat
from Chester Zoo every January.
After the warming the free coffin lid
that for years housed the real Mona Lisa
and a necklace of pearls and dried foreskins
from a seventh century rabbi, still with a catch.
The first female driver of the number 15 in Atlanta,
lying flat as if sitting up, and a ball of someone’s washing
in the sack of an aquarium design duvet cover. Before long,
my brother, perfect, as he was on holiday at Barmouth, wearing
his Save the Whales t-shirt, his mop of hair blonde again, defrosting.

 

 

Ben Bransfield is one of the Poetry Society’s Teacher Trailblazers and his first pamphlet-length collection features in Primers: Volume Two (Nine Arches Press, 2017). His poems have appeared in The North, Stand, Obsessed with Pipework, and Ash.

 

 

 

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