we revered those rake-limbed lads
on the slot machines
as though they were gods,
not fishermen’s lads.
Tag: poet
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.
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 – 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.
TWO POEMS – Tim Kiely
the cake is made of Walthamstow
a dense and glutinous Walthamstow
we are going to make Walthamstow
a Titanic success for Walthamstow
ONE POEM – Noemi Gunea
I wanted you so much
I started making things up
ONE POEM – James Owens
pale sun after rain,
shadows come back shyly—
they’ve been washed
ONE POEM – William Doreski
Dried for sale, sea stars remind you
that we haven’t seen the Atlantic
breathing heavily along a beach
for a couple of plague-struck years.
ONE POEM — Alanna Offield
My soles are gelatinous, a mixture of blood, and yoke.
ONE POEM – Nicola Maclean
Zones one to three have become a long-distance relationship.
Underground, Hades and his sardine dead
reach their eleventh hour
ONE POEM – Iona May
When did writing
become such a warm meeting place?
ONE POEM – Krysia Wazny McClain
Akademicheskaya Metro Station Sixty-four meters underground: vaulted ceilings whiter than eggshells, chrome shinier than any American diner. Pride of Lenin, who, mummified, did not see it open but extolled its nominal achievement by plaque five meters tall. On the escalator, my hand in a grey fingerless glove finds yours. A second couple kiss…
Porridge 