Red shift Dark-moon cry of you half-him of you, starring backwards axe of you, mastered as youth Teeth of you biting down, tenderizing, sharpening if only for a night The many-fold you, thorns, garden, squall of you, intoxication Thief, the noble cat of you, insistent splinter The wild-world’s red eyes beating in you Me wrenched…
Category: 21st century
ONE POEM – Leah Atherton
On the riverbank. In the corridor. In the
laugh ache. In the small hours. On the
station platform. In the stomach churn
on the way home.
F*ck Cancer: Fighting the Odds in 21st Century America – Leah Mueller
No one is ever prepared for these dreaded words: your husband’s got cancer. I should have known, but I didn’t. For months, my husband Russ complained of muscle weakness, nausea, blood in his stools, and dizziness. His new primary care provider, a man lauded by his young receptionist as a “genius”, said, “If you…
TWO POEMS – Dane Hamann
My bones willow and bite.
My lungs are a workshop. The thing is, I
want to be both engine and earth.
Interview: Matilda Battersby, Editor of Popshot
I find the process of actually writing fiction to be like some sort of mysterious alchemy. You have a plan and then what actually comes out is completely different.
Virtue — Clare Healy
A glimpse into a young woman’s summer working in a quaint town in Provence on the night of an open-air concert.
ONE POEM – Salam Wosu
I ask my body ‘what is life?’ it says ‘dance’
because dance is a way the body finds liberation
through lyrics, solace in songs, an overeager mosaic
of marinated moments & coralled colours colliding.
Books to read in isolation – Miriam Gauntlett
Wonderful insights into the books you should be reading while self-isolating, from passionate book instagrammer Miriam Gauntlett.
ONE POEM – Gerry Stewart
The fluttering ribbon of blue
outside my window deepens
but holds fast to the birches.
INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY – 8 posts by inspiring women
To celebrate International Women’s Day, we have collated eight of our most accessed posts by women.
ONE POEM – James Ducat
My friend the tarot reader repeats,
but she is a little drunk,
translucent fingers unfurling,
while shade, levered by branches,
ONE POEM – Stephen House
we keep walking
maybe fearful of touching
in front of others
unable to be completely who we are
two men with love
happily growing older
together
Porridge 