Tice Cin

Tice Cin

Did you get taken to the park?

I close up shop, smokers by the shutters
my ex walks me to Tottenham Marshes at night
past the kayak school where he had a girlfriend 
            and they were both English
he points out the bit where she took his virginity
it’s as if the brown is still dark from their impression
instead of birds all I hear is his voice, instead of trees 
ducking town – we approach water and instead of ripples, 
that voice, down my mouth, through the inny bits of my ribs, 
            taking up shop   
                                      girl open your mouth, go register

I think        I might die here today 
If I did I’d join a line of bullet Turks, so Cypriot 
they laughed on the way down.

At this hour there’s no Babington’s poppy, no bee orchid.
The bridge above the River Lee projects                    

                     in mid air it is a spectral transposition
                  light bouncing off water,
its concrete source half as beautiful.

Six feet two, a foot apart            

                                    shadows wingman him but tail me


Another night here, uncle-boss laughs from the soil
says ‘terbiyesiz’
to new cashier brothers, green with buzzing doors.


He tells me how the water is deep 
how the council don’t do enough to dredge it 
I want to say I am being threatened but instead 
I’m – wow that’s unbelievable, look at that view, thank you

TICE CIN is an interdisciplinary artist from North London. A recipient of a London Writers Award for Literary Fiction, Cin’s debut novel Keeping the House is out with And Other Stories.