Richard Scott was born in London where he works as a musican and a teacher. Since graduating from Goldsmiths with an MA in Creative and Life Writing he won the Wasafiri New Writing Prize 2011 and was selected as a Jerwood/ Arvon Poetry Mentee 2011/ 2012. His work has been published twice in Poetry Review and twice in Poetry London.
After singing at church he walks the mile to the bathhouse
and enters the fug of men.
Not the smaller cabins intended for twos and threes
but the steam room
for the hands, the lips
that emerge from interior clouds
to work him in warm silence, kissing the head, anointing the shaft
as he recalls the altar’s lavish cloth
pouring down onto the cool stone floor,
the polished, perhaps solid-gold, candlesticks holding their burdens of white
and the kneeling figures in their scarlet robes
washing the grey taken-down body.
A woman has placed her fingers into the red hinge of a chest wound.
Below the words read:
Save me O God for the waters are come in
even unto my soul.
poem published online with permission of the author; copyright Richard Scott 2013.