by Leah Jun Oh | Feb 24, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
The Nightwatchman Over his shoulder, I’m watching him chew sarnies out of grease-proof, at his last place of work, cracking a pack of Rich Tea. Between one snap and the next, he follows the beam of his torch, ferreting to the four corners of the...
by Leah Jun Oh | Feb 23, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
The Talk There are cheese and onion crisps in a flowered bowl, sliced tomatoes, strong tea, Mr Kipling’s Fondant Fancies, ye always loved those, all the news that matters, a family that doesn’t speak English has moved into Mrs McLeod’s God rest...
by Leah Jun Oh | Feb 22, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
To Stability The consultants agree your latest bloods and lung function indicate stability; that you’re likely to remain disastrously alive as a toothache buzzing like an electric saw applied to your wide-awake jaw, alive as a spinal injury that’s...
by Leah Jun Oh | Feb 21, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Frenemy Ever noticed how your legs stop moving when you fly? As a crow makes a sudden dive up through the mirror. I too have mapped my body against clouds of glass, masked like a surgeon on the Canterbury 17. On arrival she says she’ll cut my...
by Leah Jun Oh | Feb 20, 2022 | Word & Image
Day Centre I There are seats for us all, Past the potted spider plants Of the reception desk, the beige blinds; The woman whose head is a ball Of screeching baby dolls, The man whose coffee has curdled In his bloodstream, The boy who...
