Poem: Ezra Miles

‘…And I mon waxë wod’


…And I must go mad


Screaming woman in

the museum gift shop,

distressed & jabbering

& weeping & howling

& red in the face gnashing,

in terrible pain & the world

cannot help her & we

all stand around, watching

& listening & discussing

& suggesting & unable

to help, & scared of her

pain & madness, her

red gnashing tear-stroked

face, & we can’t seem

to help her & nothing

that the world has done

to her can be undone,

we alone can’t stop her

madness or even understand

it, this new language of hurt

she’s screaming in, like a

child yet terribly adult,

some terrible wisdom showing

of what life is like, how sharp

it can be. We sit &

watch on hoping she tires

herself out, knowing that

we can’t undo what’s been

done to her, what it’s

done to us either.


Ezra Miles is a poet from London. His work has previously appeared in Tears in the Fence, Ink Sweat & Tears, Allegro Poetry and Poetry Pacific among other publications. He works in a museum as his day job.


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