Pause: Rewind by Sheenagh Pugh,

Pause: Rewind bySheenagh Pugh, in Later Selected Poems 

Can be found on Amazon 

Nowadays the dead walk and talk

in the wedding video, the camcorded break,

the fuzzed black-and-white of security cameras.

A policeman watches as two balaclavas

burst, again and again, through the door

of an off-licence, and the old shopkeeper

panics, blunders into a baseball bat,

slumps in his blood. Before things can get

any worse, the young PC presses 'pause',

then 'rewind'. And the dark stream flows

into the head again; the old fellow

gets up. The thieves are backing jerkily through

the door, which closes on them. All right,

all tidy. This could get to be a habit:

so many tapes he could whizz backwards.

The bus and bike, speeding to the crossroads,

will not collide, the drunk at the hotel

will stop short of his car, the young girl

will never disappear down the subway

where her rapist waits so patiently.

Pause: rewind. Freeze-frame where you want

the world to stop. The moment before the moment,

before Challenger leaves the launch pad,

before the boat sails or the letter's posted,

before the singer jumps of the bridge,

before you see the face that ends your marriage,

before the pink suit is dyed red,

before a thought is formed or a word said.