Two poems from Mood Indigo Doxology This shot’s in washed out sepia: my father, a choir boy, about to leave his childhood behind, Glory be to the father and to the son, and to the Holy Ghost. His hair, already recalcitrant, holds a crooked centre parting with the help of Brylcreem (a little dab’ll do … Continue reading Two poems by Wendy Klein
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Five poems by Jane Weir
On the Recommendation of Ovid we Tried a Weasel It was the first mammal he ever gave me. He must have trapped it late last night when the moon disappeared inside a nightclub of clouds and stars giggling staggered behind. I found it in the morning, slung like an amulet across the lapel of … Continue reading Five poems by Jane Weir
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