‘Pineapple as a metaphor for life’ by Ben Banyard

Pineapple as a metaphor for life Yes, it’s still sitting on the window ledge Gruff, rough, browning leaves. The Best Before Date was last Thursday. It knows it’s a project, not a quick job like cutting your fingernails; this requires commitment, concentration. While intact the pineapple mocks me: we’re locked in a game of chicken which will end in Tupperware or the pig bin. This … Continue reading ‘Pineapple as a metaphor for life’ by Ben Banyard

‘Teahouse on the Hill, Lincoln’ by Terry Quinn

Teahouse on the Hill, Lincoln What with the excitement of an extra scone it completely slipped my mind to tell you the waitress had told me the décor was changed in March actually she said stripped with a degree of enthusiasm that would have the girls giggling so it was lucky they weren’t there when you found what you found on the door of the … Continue reading ‘Teahouse on the Hill, Lincoln’ by Terry Quinn

‘Not turning the light on’ by Emma Lee

Not turning the light on As I wake in the dark, the neighbour’s son returns with his girlfriend before spending what’s left of the night in her arms. I’ve not forgotten teenage insomnia, day-dreaming words into poems not daring to switch on a light to write them but silently reciting them to memory. It’s your absence that keeps me awake now and I still don’t … Continue reading ‘Not turning the light on’ by Emma Lee

‘Another box of nipples arrived today’ by Char March

Another box of nipples arrived today The hospital computer’s gone mad – that’s the third box this week. You stick them on the fridge door, the phone, the handle of the kettle. And we laugh. Then you are sick again. This evening you sit in your usual chair in the bloat of chemo, your breath really bothering you. And me, if truth be told. You … Continue reading ‘Another box of nipples arrived today’ by Char March

Two poems by Catherine Graham

  Dancing with Angels ‘Is she usually like this?’ the nurse asks indifferently. No, she’s not usually a ballerina, I’ve never heard her sing like this, beautiful, carefree. Perhaps I am meeting her for the first time, perhaps this is how she wants to be, free from all our expectations, skimming stones across reality. I want to congratulate her, be her first and last dancing … Continue reading Two poems by Catherine Graham

A poem by Julie Maclean

  U plain every night when spring gets going we sit outside in fold-up chairs, yours ripped from being left out in the weather, mine hanging in by a thread you watch dragon flies like micro choppers on some reconnaissance or other       I admire the sass of lily buds       baby maggies teetering on the brink of their first bath       wattle birds in cirque de soleil … Continue reading A poem by Julie Maclean