The Erymanthian Boar

.

from Twelve Labours

The street was endless,
each room lit behind its curtains
and the thick night soundless.

Our house was a kind of absence –
unpeopled, darkened –
bead on the wrong necklace.

I shut the cat up in its box.
Its frightened mouth leaked cries.
We’re going now, I said,

to say something definite.
And when the car began its song
the street sang it back,

all lamentation.
You let me leave, then,
driven coldly into snow.

.

.

Rachel Curzon is a Word Up North New Northern Poet for 2025. Her work has appeared in various magazines, and won the Poetry London Prize in 2025. Rachel’s debut pamphlet is published under the Faber New Poets scheme. She is working towards a collection.

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