I stood under the alligator juniper that shaded my tent in the oak woods. Effie squatted between my feet. In The Maltese Falcon, Sam Spade called his receptionist Effie. But the Effie at my feet was no lady. I called her F. E. Cottontail in my journals. Cottontails are coprophagous – literally, Fecal Eating. That…
I dreamed of teeth
cracking teeth walnut
shells my cheek
hot on your back
A version of this piece first appeared on Trampset In April, the reality of the pandemic fades into the background as my family deals with our own internal crisis. The house is in Kemsing, a southern English village in the Kent countryside. It is nestled on the slopes of the North Downs, a range of…
We are bound to nature, worms and dirt, we come from earth, and to earth we will return.
“You can call me Mr. S,” my ninth-grade biology teacher told the class on our first day, “for the sssss a snake makes.” Eyes sunken behind wirerimmed glasses, he had a wide mouth with no lips that I recall, and long, stubble-blue cheeks like leather stretched tight to the bone. While he lectured, a red…
We made the heads of Styrofoam
so not to be too heavy on their frail necks.
Hearts? Simply-fashioned, from lumps of stone.
The fluttering ribbon of blue
outside my window deepens
but holds fast to the birches.
Above the house a low sun like a wrecking ball,
the world at the horizon splintered like a Rothko
I want to feel
the warm milk of your smile.
I want to see your reflection
in the moon’s mirror, polished like spring bones.
Vacant of leaves
and shell-wrapped gifts,
dad and I can see the sky.
Keith Moul is a poet of place, a photographer of the distinction of place. His digital photos strive for a colourful vision with their high contrast and saturation. Both his poems and photos are published widely and available on his website, http://poemsphotosmoul.blogspot.com. Lost Lip (2012) The Arches Provincial Park, Newfoundland Ran Out of…
Josephine Greenland is a British-Swedish writer holding an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Birmingham. A prose writer at heart, she is currently working on her first novel. When not writing, she can be seen wandering in the mountains or playing her violin. U-nomia A biological cartographer in a bracken of unclassifieds…