///  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


Read by Angharad Williams
Published through



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.


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.


Slowly my head nods and falls,

the bees have escaped from
behind my retinas.

I choose to rest my eyelids.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


I black out.


I wake with the dew on my face,

sight seared shut,

ears pricked.