Three poems from Near Future Summer with Robobees Those long evenings they giddied in the warm wealth of the oilseed rapefields humidity sensors estimating approaching storms * We picnicked on the lawn in July – shuttlecocks pinged distantly our scones and jam unbothered by the robobees their algorithms danced them between marigolds * Sometimes they get indoors through open windows go from … Continue reading Three poems by Suzannah Evans
Conversation Nina Simone playing in the background of a Café. Rasta: Write it bloody and true, write the Passion of Black, write the psalms of a people, write the jazz, write the gospels, write it plain, write the protest songs from cover to cover. Illuminate the pages with love. Writer: How do you write about the hate of centuries and not tear down … Continue reading Three poems by Roy McFarlane
Feckless Sometimes it makes him angry, this dying, and I keep doing things wrong, forget to soften the stars with almond milk before I bring them to his bedside on a saucer, buy the wrong kind of green tea, the wrong kind of holy water from the village shop. He says there are things that need darning but I end up darning the … Continue reading Three poems by Gaia Holmes
Shades of woman She tells me I look like sex tonight. Really, you do, can’t you see it? And when I look down I do see; I see my breasts plump and hairless flung out of my sex dress like sleeping strays. I know this body is woman. This body is power; awake, alive. Paint me red and call me the devil. Let … Continue reading Three poems by Nafeesa Hamid
Two poems from Passport, Nine Arches Press Double Dutch i. In Catholic Belgium, the norm is to have a crucifix hanging in every classroom. Ours is broken and lies in bits. It looks like a gun someone has been ordered to surrender. No one mentions it. I’m the one person in my class not fleeing war or tyranny. They accept me, even … Continue reading Two poems by Richie McCaffery
It began when you opened your desk and found everything gone, replaced with sand. You opened the wooden pencil case your brother had made and it contained nothing but sand. Next, your books filled with sand and the words began to wear away. Your homework was late because sand ate the sums and solutions. Study time vanished in to the time it had … Continue reading ‘Sand’ by Jane Commane
