Trump Card

Lily Smart

‘There is no truth, only truths’

‘There are no truths – but if there were –
this would be it.’

Up shoots the crowd
and side to side the stadium shakes
       the static grates
the wheezing of their stifled hearts.
Long ago the truth was drowned
       the senseless bashing of
a million hands.

The rest is silence.

Children pluck the eyelids
out with sticks.
But the flies come faithful
to curdle the cracks of her open lips
whilst her mother rocks
      with silent heaving
and the preacher cries ‘Too soon,
too soon, the end has come!

No, no, no, it has only just begun

when one grief feeds upon the
death of another.

Beside the dimly lit hut,
the scathing sun beats hard
on the backs of believers.

Again and again, they return
to break the barren earth,
but cry when they lower the coffin
to find

the silent rocking of a stone cold cot.