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

Three poems by Geraldine Clarkson

  The Dancers on Graves gather at dawn, 21st June, by the large yew; limber up, leaning on the back ends of monuments and tombs; adjust bandeaux and legwarmers; yodel a little, do scales to loosen the chi. The relevant areas are corralled with ribbon, beginning with John Henry Frayn, father of three, down to Dawn Mary Highgate, a friend to all. The usual routines, … Continue reading Three poems by Geraldine Clarkson

‘Three Young Surrealist Women Holding in their Arms the Skins of an Orchestra’ by Geraldine Clarkson

  Three Young Surrealist Women Holding in their Arms the Skins of an Orchestra (Dali, 1936)   Having always used her music as a tool, a gift to stifle hurt in others, a niche into which she could stuff pansies or wallflowers, a grey to be drenched with peony or tangerine, she became pliable, perfectly responsive to circumstance, a kitten following its master, chase-and-nibble. At … Continue reading ‘Three Young Surrealist Women Holding in their Arms the Skins of an Orchestra’ by Geraldine Clarkson