Archive (up-dated)
Overlaid
ÔYouÕre late.Õ ÔIÕm sorry, I overlaid.Õ
ÔYou overslept?Õ I overlaid.
I covered myself in sleep:
I lived in the ground not calling it dirt,
I burrowed: the seatearth known as fireclay.
There were bones, cast off shells,
and nothing familiar
until beetles - chitin sticking in my teeth,
shellac, shellac too. And ash,
ash sustained me -
and sediment,
and the damp from ancient mires.
My eyes crusted with salt,
and I welcomed the stinging.
When the heat was too much
I took flint to my hair,
breathed through the gaps in my teeth,
their remnants.
Published in the New Writing Ventures website
Jacqueline Gabbitas was born in Worksop, Nottinghamshire. Her poetry has been published in magazines including Poetry Review, Oxford Magazine, Magma and Staple and in anthologies, including Well Versed (Hearing Eye Press), Images of Women (Arrowhead Press) and Entering The Tapestry (Enitharmon Press). She has won prizes in various competitions and in 2007 was short-listed in the New Writing Ventures Awards. Her pamphlet, Mid Lands was published by Hearing Eye Press the same year. She is a Hawthornden Fellow and an editor on Brittle Star magazine.