from Surrender Harder I like a long tongue that can re-enter the pastand get to licking there with phrases, getto massaging there my injured ago’s. * When I look up I feel I am home-come.Why, what have those shredsof dream-fleece––clouds––got to do with me?Maybe I’m more than capsizing body.Maybe there is something sky-allied that wouldlikeContinue reading “Nadira Clare Wallace: extracts from Hope Fight”
Tag Archives: poetry
Cynthia Abdallah: ‘Lamu’, ‘Ulale Ngoxolo Madiba’, and ‘Naisula’
LamuOf mangrove roots stretching into the Indian OceanOf Takwa ruins and ancient townsOf dhows, donkeys and jelly fishNaked children and roiling wavesAbandoned forts and strange carvings Ulale Ngoxolo MadibaOf leopard skins, slaughtered oxen, swollen feet and body achesOf Zulu dances, Siyabongas and enchanting hallelujah. Naisulaof plain grass lands, grazing zebras and thick bushesOf Maasai morans,Continue reading “Cynthia Abdallah: ‘Lamu’, ‘Ulale Ngoxolo Madiba’, and ‘Naisula’”
Susanna Galbraith: ‘ekphrasis’ and ‘nude self portrait, crouching’
nude self portrait, crouching there is a white page and a man sits within its bounds, a knee pressed to the right edge a hand that would be pushing left if it weren’t invisible. being inside brackets changes the difference between pushing and holding. the invisible hand never had any fingers the invisible hand wasContinue reading “Susanna Galbraith: ‘ekphrasis’ and ‘nude self portrait, crouching’”
Hattie Atkins: All Creatures
You emerge, bowlegged, and blinking into the sun,skin paled like fruits before the harvest. I ask whereyou’ve been, but you sigh and shake your headand we tread the path home, careful and unspeaking,mud emptying from your pocketslike an offering. I offer a bowl and I offer a bed, but you’re sateddespite all you’ve abstained, andContinue reading “Hattie Atkins: All Creatures”
Jane Hartshorn: ‘Cardinal’ and ‘Blood Count’
Cardinal we are crouching overa rabbittrying to discernthe cause of death tangle of innardsbrocade of purplespleen hot breathof flesh crampedcentipede of thesmall intestine the dashed cardinalof its open throat indigo-soaked andsteaming runic my tongue lying heavyin my mouth squeezing musclesin sequence the sound of grass and violettearing from the tap-root Blood Count the cold ofContinue reading “Jane Hartshorn: ‘Cardinal’ and ‘Blood Count’”
Scott Lilley: sonnet simp
to begin, and no matter how deconstructed the form, in a collection of sonnetsit is somewhat unavoidable that the reader may expect to interpret a love poem. What I mean by this is that said love poem may not necessarily be some overtor passionate elucidation rather may contain yearning, an object of desire, the whimContinue reading “Scott Lilley: sonnet simp”
Piero Toto: Trade Lite
the 55 to Clerkenwellbears bodies I don’t needcrouching at the backthey ask why sad, cherie?you love me like Diana Rosson summits I can’t reachat Xmas here I swapa crown for tortoise dustwhile queens dance& vogue asking~?the lights crawl back upto whisper turn aroundlet’s walk me backgoodnight I typeblue ticksremember me todaymy mother slumpedin dreamsplastic wakesContinue reading “Piero Toto: Trade Lite”
Joe Marsh: Glebe Cow Monologue
GLEBE COW: if – upright –gotta start moo own statemoo polyglot statelick it from ice (drools) if only oronly if – or –parse? the moo fieldherd the moochainprove moosengot plans – may₿huh? (drools) state is as it used to ₿ (drools) coulda ₿nsellin at Sothe₿ston grand of eth – oo ooover the moon ormooin thatContinue reading “Joe Marsh: Glebe Cow Monologue”
Michelle Dyrness: extract from ‘Night for Day’
Michelle Dyrness Michelle Lynn Dyrness’ work as a visual artist explores methods using accident, intuition and the suggestive revealed in the unexpected. She has exhibited extensively, and is a frequent collaborator across disciplines, exploring the ways image and language inform one another. Recent publications include Square Confits (Overground Underground, 2022), individual imprints from So WentContinue reading “Michelle Dyrness: extract from ‘Night for Day’”
Lydia Unsworth: Walk Around Town
fairy lights rock from the street lightsin a curled windwe thought we’d see starsbut they’ve gone and done thiswrapped a rough blanket round our knees we cried in the direction of the seathe black on black water slap slap slap in my faceyour presence like a hand on my hard hearta push in the chesttheContinue reading “Lydia Unsworth: Walk Around Town”
OSMOSIS PRESS 