Hooves leave a hard imprint, a dark wet mark.
Hoof-clop like the noise your tongue makes
When it leaves the roof of your mouth.
Category: Creative Writing
ONE POEM – Siobhan Ward
Its big head, glassy stare
and halting hobble
from random ewe to ewe
made me think of you –
TWO POEMS – DS Maolalai
they sit on the bridge. they cluster
as close as the round bulbs
of road-swollen blackberries,
dusty with travel.
ONE POEM – Olivia Heggarty
Cutting my hair with the meat scissors,
being told off for not using a hairdresser,
explaining that if I don’t change something
often I will do something worse
ONE POEM – Amanda Huggins
we revered those rake-limbed lads
on the slot machines
as though they were gods,
not fishermen’s lads.
ONE POEM – Srinjay Chakravarti
It will not miss
a trick—
or treat.
Its bulging eyeballs
on a roll,
it makes an advance
and then stops.
TWO POEMS – Janet McCann
Something Lives Something lives in the crawl spaceAbove my room. A bird? Maybe a rat?Sometimes it seems to be shaking out its feathers.But then there’s a scrabbling overheadAnd the squares of insulation quiver. I’m not afraid of you, I tell the shaking panels.We all have the right to be.And I will not pursue you with…
ONE POEM – Constance von Igel
Brazil has 27 administrative regions, and we found
The strongest evidence of your ancestry,
In the following 10 regions.
ONE POEM – Sofia Lyall
I find the roots of an oak (dead, upturned, twisted)
and am left more disoriented than before.
The Sea People — Euan Currie
I often fantasise about tipping the cabinet forward until the plastic drawers slide out and spill their contents in a wave of plastic. I tell myself they should be recycled or reused. But in the fantasy it all just spills out and keeps on spilling.
Something You Can Feel in Your Teeth — Hannah Stevens
Neither of them talk much in the morning. Somehow things are more difficult in the early hours. She feels more fragile, more lost, more oppressed by the narrow confines and the lack of light.
ONE POEM – Kira Scott
these are the tears that we cannot shed
as we comment on the beauty of the glen and
how wonderful it must have been to live in such a place.
