HOAX


///  a perilous deception

a collection of new texts and audio work exploring the physicality of farm labouring, the perils of pregnancy and Welsh coastal mythology














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Read by Angharad Williams
Published through
Bloodletting


COAGULATION

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My tongue is dry.


The other life on board stretches
and begins to pulse.

I know that I’m tired, but aren’t we all.


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The beat started as a clot,
a coagulation,

a slow solidification from a liquid

to thick viscous then solid state.


It’s become a dried clump of material
and it’s wedged.




I focus on the vessel.

The hollow tunnel, the transporter.

There’s a blockage, a block.

A no go pass.



My body aches.

It’s located deep in my ribs

as the breath catches in my throat.






















I’ve been waiting,

waiting on my back for my body to naturally dissolve.

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Slowly my head nods and falls,

the bees have escaped from
behind my retinas.



I choose to rest my eyelids.

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Sometime later I wake with the sun burning my face

and perilous squawks above me.

They are circling.

Now is the exact time to panic.



The rocks dig into my spine, and I violently heave

myself and my cargo from side to side,

yet to no avail.

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My legs are locked at the knees,

and I’m dangerously isolated.

No trucks, no wellingtons, no dogs in sight.


Two of them land a foot from me,

greedily watching me struggle.

They cautiously claw tap towards me.

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It’s swelteringly hot below my coat, and once again

I shudder erupting into involuntary vibrations.

Yet I know my weight is too much,

I force my shoulders and hips forward

but I have no momentum to turn.

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I clam up.

And slowly I feel them settle upon my shins.

I kick out as they beginto navigate

over my swelling stomach and torso.

They come to rest on my pulsing neck.

Their claws grip my throat.

I freeze.




I tighten every muscle,

then burst into a cascade of bucks.




For a moment I’m elated as they take flight above

me and I collapse exhausted in the clear silence.

But my shoulder blades arch back into the grass

and my legs lock tight before me.



I’m stranded on my back.

A moment passes.




























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They settle again.

This time above my head, out of sight.




I strain my neck away

as I hear them approaching.




Then one sharp slice of my lip

and a beak plunges deep through my eyelid.

The pain sears my skull, as two harsh levers

prise and clamp around my eyeball,

and with slow force and suction I lurch forward

as another intense acidic pain erupts

through my sister socket.


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I black out.

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I wake with the dew on my face,

sight seared shut,

ears pricked.


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