[R. S. Gwynn]

British, born in Manchester in 1971.

To a Certain Person

If one day I should find myself in pain,
In a predicament or in distress,
There's something you can do for me: refrain
From digging out my number and address.

Don't send your sympathy or kind regards.
Don't send your cash (as if you ever would),
Nor are your presents, telegrams and cards
Evidence that you wish me all things good.

You will profess to want to help. Then do--
A burst of honesty might make me smile.
Tell me that you believe I'm overdue
This, if not even more severe a trial.

Indulge yourself: applaud, rejoice, enthuse
And maybe soon I'll have some more bad news.

from First of the Last Chances

Rondeau Redoublé

I know the rules and hear myself agree
Not to invest beyond this one night stand.
I know your patter: in, out, like the sea.
The sharp north wind must blow away the sand.

Soon my supply will meet your last demand
And you will have no further use for me.
I will not swim against the tide, to land.
I know the rules. I hear myself agree.

I've kept a stash of hours, just two or three
To smuggle off your coast like contraband.
We will both manage (you more easily)
Not to invest beyond this one night stand.

To narrow-minded friends I will expand
On cheap not being the same as duty free.
I'll say this was exactly what I planned.
I know your pattern: in, out, like the sea.

It's not as if we were designed to be
Strolling along the beach front, hand in hand.
Things change, of natural necessity.
The sharp north wind must blow away the sand

And every storm to rage, however grand,
Will end in pain and shipwreck and debris
And each time there's a voice I have to strand
On a bare rock, hardened against its plea;
I know the rules.

Sophie Hannah