By Todd Swift b. 1966 Todd Swift
No children;
Cold uncoils in the blood;
Science, true, not good
For you. So old,
Suddenly, or so young.
Lyric inside not to be sung.
Plug pulled, screen gone.
Sun out; mind
Bountiful, playing pain.
These are my children
In my head. Unbegotten.
This is to self-forget,
To have the future
Born forgotten.

Source: Poetry (February 2011).


This poem originally appeared in the February 2011 issue of Poetry magazine

February 2011
 Todd  Swift


Todd Swift is lecturer in creative writing at Kingston University London and poet-in-residence at Oxfam GB. His poetry collections include Seaway: New and Selected Poems (Salmon Poetry, 2008).

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Poems by Todd Swift

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SUBJECT Living, Growing Old, Disappointment & Failure, Relationships, Family & Ancestors, Arts & Sciences, Poetry & Poets


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