25B the bear’s leg scorched a bronze bolt on black fur too close yr grandaughter’s heart reduced to menthol cinders scented jumpers chanel factoids &breathe standing in the shadow of a yellow fiesta for anti-climb read anti cry read girly anti social the awkward silence … Continue reading Three poems by Sarah Crewe
Witch Burning After Sylvia Plath ‘My ankles brighten. Brightness ascends my thighs. I am lost, I am lost, in the robes of all this light.’ – Sylvia Plath Her mouth makes the sound of a kettle whistle – high, sharp, spinning into air like smoke. I watch. Everyone around her watches. Her body peeling back on itself to reveal a wet heart, all of … Continue reading Two poems by Holly Singlehurst
Waiting for the thing to lift It’s like the weird pink in a painting of Nordic dusk, which to anyone would look like daylight but because of you I know it is the night. There is so much stillness in something held down in an image, the weight of distress is not always clear. Like the presence of disorder, how do we determine … Continue reading Two poems by Lizzy Turner
Mermaid There was a time when I did not live like this. There was a time when I was the ocean’s whore. Now I am a hopeless man-pleaser, kissing those small rubbery toes, arching my back to let them stroke me. Some of them want to ride me around in the chlorinated water, buttocks up, head down: giddy-up water-horsey! Easy, girl! Down! Some of them prefer … Continue reading Two poems by Mel Pettitt
Oh God, for you the feral beauty of punching a fascist in the face. For you the bruise as unfolding orgasm, the humiliation as scented whips. If when you watch you want to cum, that’s OK, God: touch yourself! With your hand, God. Vow to learn to land that touch with the merciless precision of a blue-tongued skink’s blue tongue, a tennis ace’s ace, … Continue reading ‘Bloom’ by Harry Giles
My Son the Cockroach has always had an eye for the ladies. I told him, ‘They’re not screaming at you, at least not in the way you seem to imagine.’ He’s the colouring of Achilles and his daftness too. They say those copper curls stood out in battle, that and his swingeing blade. My boy’s no swordsman but protection is important and we’ve a … Continue reading Two poems by Chloe Balcomb
Manger After The Adoration of the Magi This ramshackle hut I was born had neither thatch, roof nor ceiling A hovel with a hundred o holes, having no walls nor windows, not even an exit. Cows, horses, flies slept all within, barely room for a time, Father built chimneys and Mother had sweetbread and kidneys a boiling. Winters were harsh. Hailing, piss-snow over us while … Continue reading Two poems by Leonardo Boix
Eyewitness Travel In Shepherds Bush library, now an annex of Westfield, a man in a corner seat leans over two Dorling Kindersley books —Eyewitness Travel—and with near-complete, near-sighted reverence (the kind you’d give to something rare or precious) turns and scans each glossy page. I’m trying to believe it’s for a trip he’s planning, but the stains on his ripped jumper give me the … Continue reading Two poems by Will Harris
Inside the camphorwood chest – forgotten treasure: a pair of leather cowboy boots with metal toe caps. How they shone. As loud, proud and polished as the men they sparked a trail through. Three decades of dust can’t hide the cracks. A genie-rub conjures up swirls of dry ice, the wink of the glitter ball, and the Night Fever dance floor, a chequerboard where … Continue reading ‘High Society’ by Ian Humphreys
Bars Bars Bars how it was is half the fun. half the story. the grit underneath nails. the last bit of meat left on the bone. a clinging of years. yaa the years. softening like plastic. hoarded in narrowing closets in the coldest of spare rooms. mothball mama. all the how it could have beens. crates of apples & pears. flushing green as sickness. … Continue reading Two poems by Momtaza Mehri
