The Friday Poem

A poem every Friday

The Friday Poem on 05/04/2024

We’re primed to respond to murder mystery these days. So when this poem opens with a death – even a death-that-isn’t – there’s an instant frisson. That “hollow body”, headless and footless, is haunting. Its feeling for the “impulsive mortal” (instead of the other way around) grabs attention. A neat thread of sound echoes (blind / spine / minor/ widened / Tynemouth / inside / skin), and perfect pacing, make this unusually satisfying.

Wetsuit

The hollow body hangs
in the cupboard under the stairs
headless       hands and feet

detached on a low shelf
blind zip for a spine –

a punished minor deity
condemned to unseen longing

for the impulsive mortal
whose senses were widened
by a glassy sea at Tynemouth

whose pulse now slows and quickens
inside a different skin.

Regina Weinert grew up in Hamburg, moved to Edinburgh and now lives in Sheffield. She has a background in languages and literature and has spent most of her working life researching and teaching linguistics. Her poems also appear in The North, Pennine Platform, Poetry Salzburg Review, and Stand and other magazines.

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