There’s been a cliffside above my left aorta
Mesolithic fossils, old wounds reopened like a diary
I know so much of this place, and it, of me
That it can be hard to separate the two.
The doctors ask where my pain fits on a scale.
They show faces, bruises, fractures.
“Where is the chart for how my home is being eaten?”
I tell them 4
They tell me most people would say 0
That the human body is not built to be in pain.
Most people I know are 4s
Most people I know know when the sewage is released.
E-coli and ice cream summers.
They found a brachiopod in loose chalk the other day,
And I remembered the ghost of home.
Connor Sansby is a writer living and working in Margate, England – a place which greatly influences his work. He has written two collections of poetry and one joint collection of poetry, as well as a short story collection, I Am Not A Well Person. He is the founder and CEO of Whisky & Beards publishing from 2018 to present, and is 3x Saboteur nominated. He is also the host of the Margate Bookie Slam.