Two poems by Jessica Mookherjee

The Liar I never believed in Father Christmas as I crawled out of the chimney, soot-stained, ingrained dust in the whorls of my skin. I never feared the dark, crawled under my bed, talking to dust, moulding it into imaginary friends. We sang together to the soil. Suspicious of prayers to invisible gods, I stared at vicars and asked them who would go to hell, … Continue reading Two poems by Jessica Mookherjee