Tacit Prospero: No tongue! All eyes! Be silent. [soft music] (The Tempest, Act IV, Sc. I) In the beginning came the hush: nub of his rule, the anti-ruckus, my quiet kept to forge his crown. This was a daughter tutored mute, speech no sooner to bloom than be swaddled. He saw me stitch the peace … Continue reading ‘Tacit’ by Kate Wakeling
Author: And Other Poems
‘Mrs Elizabeth Freake and Baby Mary’ by Olivia McCannon
Mrs Elizabeth Freake and Baby Mary (Anonymous artist, New England, late 17th century) The baby is looking to one side – Uncovering an early smile – at The next canvas being painted The mother attentive, but Watching the way you watch her Challenging whatever it is You think she is doing – yes, … Continue reading ‘Mrs Elizabeth Freake and Baby Mary’ by Olivia McCannon
‘Gilgamesh at the Edge of the World’ by Jenny Lewis
Canto Ten: Gilgamesh at the Edge of the World* Crazed with grief after the death of his friend, Enkidu, Gilgamesh wanders in the wilderness until he reaches the Edge of the World where he comes across a tavern kept by the demi-goddess, Siduri. Shrouded in hoods and veils she lived alone At the sea’s edge, … Continue reading ‘Gilgamesh at the Edge of the World’ by Jenny Lewis
Two poems by Theophilus Kwek
Witness It was mid-morning. The body flipped, came to rest face-down on tarmac. Unaware, the rider went some distance then, noticing something was amiss, stopped, dismounted, ran back to where a gathering clutch of men knelt and stood. She was already gone. And so were we, drawn on by the bus’s trajectory toward our stops, … Continue reading Two poems by Theophilus Kwek
Two poems by Janet Rogerson
Them (for them) i My girl's not mine, hers, insanely heart sharp, heart shaped face, kissy, kind through tunnel of missing teeth, deep dark hugs, wants a job colouring pictures of god, don't play the blink- ing game with her, she laughs like a thousand frogs. ii And blue, clinging you, close very close finds … Continue reading Two poems by Janet Rogerson
‘The Saturday Shift’ by Salena Godden
The Saturday Shift I'm trying to read a Jonathan Franzen article, his opinion of culture and despair. Bottom line is, he says, we just don’t read enough. There are two old ladies in this afternoon with frazzled, dried-apricot hair. They’re ordering double vodkas, with homeopathic splashes of lemonade. I’m having a glass of red, and … Continue reading ‘The Saturday Shift’ by Salena Godden
‘Feathers’ by Mark Granier
Feathers She gave me an etching she’d made of a single feather, one of the short, curled ones that plump ski-jackets and pillows. I asked for it, though it may also have been a kind of parting gift to something that could never get off the ground. * Feathers found in amber … Continue reading ‘Feathers’ by Mark Granier
Two poems by Ivy Alvarez
Chamuel Lo, though he were in Gethsemane, he was also with me. The thigh bone is strong but, at a certain point, it is like a twig. Even a bird, alighting after a long journey, ruffling its wings in a shiver, could, in shrugging its feathered shoulder, break it. If I told you I had … Continue reading Two poems by Ivy Alvarez
‘Ys, Ys’ by Claire Trévien
Ys, Ys Yes, I am the seabirds washed inside-out, the stained-glass sea, yawning roofless walls. Yes, your calls ring straight to voicemails, you can barely hear my recording yapping over the waves. Yes, the proofer has vanished, his pen unable to underline typos yet my skin is littered with deaths. Yes, I timed out and … Continue reading ‘Ys, Ys’ by Claire Trévien
‘The Fathoms’ by Sarah Fletcher
The Fathoms When I am caught within the eels of it, I remember more is known about the moon than the deepest parts of the ocean. This helps me make sense of it. One thousand fathoms down, brine scales everything. Salt scars hearts across the rocks. A date of birth. The other animals are mainly … Continue reading ‘The Fathoms’ by Sarah Fletcher
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