{"id":116,"date":"2012-11-07T13:13:00","date_gmt":"2012-11-07T13:13:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=116"},"modified":"2014-07-02T16:40:18","modified_gmt":"2014-07-02T16:40:18","slug":"the-wounds","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=116","title":{"rendered":"The Wounds"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/p>\n

I<\/strong><\/p>\n

Betrayal begins at home, a fine-boned fledgling,
\nblown-in through your window, heart a-shiver.<\/p>\n

Suffering starts out there, in vast untended forests,
\nwhere it rolls, gathers under leaves until<\/p>\n

the day you come to find it.
\nWounds are local, particular. Even his;<\/p>\n

the man I found on wasteland out
\nbeyond the house-backs, in a clench of gorse<\/p>\n

too tight for dens or dogging, hangs he
\nlike a haunch amid the yellow blooms, the thorns,<\/p>\n

the smell of coconut, his clothes ripped on re-entry,
\nbleached silk like a tattered parachute, his skin<\/p>\n

dried out by wind and sun, and there,
\nabove his eyes (still open) blood-lines<\/p>\n

stripe his brow.<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

II<\/strong><\/p>\n

Somebody is after me,
\ngaining miles a day,<\/p>\n

and unlike me
\nthey never stop to sleep.<\/p>\n

I have to save this fallen pilot
\nbefore I am lost myself.<\/p>\n

I spend hours in his gorse cell,
\nasking him which war,<\/p>\n

which world, which side,
\nbut he says nothing.<\/p>\n

I have tried to salve the bullet-hole
\nin his left hand<\/p>\n

but cannot staunch it,
\nrain drips off his tunic.<\/p>\n

I set a fire to ward the foxes off.<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

III<\/strong><\/p>\n

O pilot, will I ever know
\nwhat brought you down?<\/p>\n

I pull his right glove off
\nand find a deeper wound.<\/p>\n

Did this hand flinch
\nin fellow-feeling for the other,<\/p>\n

upturned like a shucked crab,
\nlegs curled in on its agony?<\/p>\n

His cupped hand holds
\na catch of blood and rain.<\/p>\n

Fugitive and parched,
\nI drink from it,<\/p>\n

and for a moment all the ersatz
\nworld, its coincidence and chaos,<\/p>\n

feels inevitable, utter.<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

IV<\/strong><\/p>\n

Even if I could revive him
\nhe would barely stagger,<\/p>\n

his boots are shot through,
\nand the dark tan leather<\/p>\n

blooms with ox-blood.
\nHe is so entwined with this,<\/p>\n

the gorse that broke his fall,
\nthat I begin to wonder<\/p>\n

if he crashed at all, or rather,
\nbroke from some aberrant seed<\/p>\n

within this bush, but where
\nhe should have been picked off<\/p>\n

by starving winter birds,
\ninstead he grew twisted and limber,<\/p>\n

too heavy to move.<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

V<\/strong><\/p>\n

Those who pursue me
\nare mere hours away.<\/p>\n

Where they come from,
\nthere is no rain,<\/p>\n

so their tyres smell
\nof cinder tracks and tar.<\/p>\n

I wince at the sound
\nof an engine, slam of a door.<\/p>\n

I cannot save this pilot,
\nnot with such a loss of blood.<\/p>\n

So I rip his shirt to bare
\nthe largest wound,<\/p>\n

beneath his ribs. I tear
\nthe wound lips wider still,<\/p>\n

climb inside and hide.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Betrayal begins at home, a fine-boned fledgling,
\nblown-in through your window, heart a-shiver.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":10,"featured_media":331,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[1,10],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\nThe Wounds - The Manchester Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=116\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The Wounds - The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Betrayal begins at home, a fine-boned fledgling, blown-in through your window, heart a-shiver.\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=116\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2012-11-07T13:13:00+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2014-07-02T16:40:18+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/10\/JKimforTheWounds.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"3008\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"2000\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Michael Symmons Roberts\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Michael Symmons Roberts\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"2 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=116\",\"url\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=116\",\"name\":\"The Wounds - The Manchester Review\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#website\"},\"datePublished\":\"2012-11-07T13:13:00+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2014-07-02T16:40:18+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/35cdcf1fba42ce8ad383eacdd4eaabae\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=116#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=116\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=116#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"The Wounds\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#website\",\"url\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/\",\"name\":\"The Manchester Review\",\"description\":\"The Manchester Review\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":\"required name=search_term_string\"}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/35cdcf1fba42ce8ad383eacdd4eaabae\",\"name\":\"Michael Symmons Roberts\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/wp-includes\/images\/blank.gif\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/wp-includes\/images\/blank.gif\",\"caption\":\"Michael Symmons Roberts\"},\"description\":\"Michael Symmons Roberts was born in 1963 in Preston, Lancashire, UK. 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