Friday, 7 July 2017

A poem by Claire Sexton

Sensitivity plus

Sensitivity plus, all the things you would not want. Belting down on you like frazzled rain. Tearing chunks out of you like frightened primates. Teeth and claw, incisors, jaws. Annihilating season. Secret daggers and pieces of sharp flint. Neolithic tools for gutting and carving. Kubrick's classic moment re-enacted.

Fragments of sadness all around you. Love battered and grabbed. Greed in all its ugly fashions. Violations and fouled meat. Judgment, like a beacon, inside the young and old. Dangerous over-consumption. Savage interactions. The sense of losing grace. And never being able to help enough.

Claire Sexton is a forty-something Welsh poet and writer, who has lived in London for many years. She suffers with depression and complex PTSD, but finds solace and comfort in the act of writing and sharing her work. She has previously been published in Ink, Sweat and Tears, The Stare's Nest, Hedgerow, Peeking Cat Poetry, and Light - a journal of photography & poetry. She is currently out of work but trying to use the time productively and creatively. She shares her home with a large black and white cat called Jools.

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