A poem from ‘Sunspots’ by Simon Barraclough

 Violet violent as an ‘ultra’ or inviolate as a saint? The reverbs from a viola playing purple passages. A Parma Violet on your tongue, like the contents of your grandma’s handbag, reminding you that childhood is neither sweet nor sour and never tastes quite right; the elusive umami of mommy and daddy. A triolet seems apposite but th’imperial cloak will not be hemmed by … Continue reading A poem from ‘Sunspots’ by Simon Barraclough

‘Whales’ by Claire Trévien

Whales Whales lived under our house making the hinges rock, splitting cups and cheeks. Stray socks melted in their comb-mouths their fins sliced through conversations, we found bones in our cups of tea. Most of the time they just wanted to play bounced against bookshelves, snorted leaks, threw bodies across the room. No one believed me of course, the carpet looked too smooth to hide … Continue reading ‘Whales’ by Claire Trévien