Reading a poetry play which.. err..as the name suggests, is a play in a sequence of poems. All poems are in a series of monologues, recited by a woman in a moving train. This is one of my favourites in the book.


Imagine a cut,

straight and clear,

like two panes of glass nestled together,


Each with its longings and allegiances.

Now imagine a heart, split,

not broken.

A jagged cut runs through the core.

No steady heart could join it.

Never again whole.

‘Dreams of May’

Sue Guiney