Just t csh . – the once, my man – his skhul
sprorling with horns icy
as cenotaphs – gave up csh t – . to me a frumenty
with venison; a plush csh t – . manchet with
marmalade of quince; a djug of custard sloshd t ./ oevr
goose and peacock, lamb nd
potted beef – all set t t . ./ to work on unpikking my furious
wrinkls, or nhite-t csh . – swetting a slurry of plainsong above.
And after, well fed-up but famished, I knashed at th bare bakside
of an apl csh csh – -/ nd an appl &
another apple – and felt non the better for it, only old. Yet by
this bhlite t t t . . . nd my pan
of copper, egg white oracle, csh csh csh – – – I have second-
guessed t csh t . – . every future lottery: their
numbers rolllling over, sure,
continuus, and their hlopped t csh t . – . heads, sstopless csh t csh csh – . – –
Camille Ralphs is currently a postgraduate student at the University of Oxford. In April 2016, she appeared on BBC Radio 6 Music with Cerys Matthews to discuss her debut poetry pamphlet, ‘Malkin’, which was published by The Emma Press in November 2015.