Hunger Hill

I stare out the window
discreetly picking the spot on my nose
for approximately one mile in a northerly direction
encouraging infection
with a bitten-off nail and absent mind
that keeps finding itself
at your bottom lip
the join of your hip to your back
and slack morning eyes that opened
six hours ago

the lack of sleep is starting to show

I think I might be ill

the dark of the glass on the top deck
makes liquid strands of my hands
reflections of reading lights and passing cars
and I become transfixed by the sight of the night layered
behind the curved sides of the bus

to my right
a row of lorries carry
their yellow lights
in long straight lines
and the sign across the aisle tells me to
Smash Glass and Push Out Remnants
and so I do

thinking of you
I pick out the shards of disbelief
and reach
for a tangible sense of relief that those
pieces of golden optimism
I’d been storing away
have truly proven their worth

we pass a sign for Hunger Hill
as my waiting takes on a new dimension

resigned impatience

just west of Bolton

Michelle Green’s affair with Manchester has lasted over nine fairly solid years thus far. Her short stories and poems have appeared in various anthologies, magazines and audio recordings, and her book of poetry – Knee High Affairs – is published by Crocus Books.

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One Response to “Hunger Hill”

  1. January 01, 2009 at 1:02 pm, Tim Woodall said:

    This is brilliant, probably my favourite Rainy City piece so far… Some of the language is really beautiful. In fact, I think I’ll just read it again!


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