Dirty Windshield

Tanvir Naomi BushDisability, Poetry, Visual Impairment 1 Comment

Dirty Windshield (In Space No One Can Hear You Scream.) The screen is cracked, Two bullet holes and The blackened spidery cracks Like septicaemia Creep Towards the veins and brain The shield is almost down, captains. Nothing can stop the Eleven Million Mile High walls of night Rushing at twice the speed of any light. We are the fragile gnat And just breath could now knock through And rage bore wider holes And the whisper of air As you rush […]