Today’s choice
Previous poems
Julian Dobson
The small press publisher
You too I guess
have studied the surviving starlings
as they swoop and whistle
by the snack trailer at Moorfoot
glinting for crumbs of flaky pastry
like a glimpsed field of dandelions
and everything turns holy – you
shouldering your bag
of printer-fresh smooth pages
halting the gutterwebbed streets
with round words, delicate
as dust-jackets. See
how those walked syllables
arc into hollow air
in tattily furnished function rooms
or slip through letterboxes,
little pearly grenades.
Julian Dobson’s work has appeared in numerous print and online journals, including Stand, The Rialto, and Tears in the Fence. Julian lives in Sheffield but hasn’t yet learned to love mushy peas.
Morgan Harlow
She hadn’t lost a child but if she had she imagined it would be like that.
Antony Owen and Martin Figura on Remembrance Day
Let fathers bind their sons
to altars, so the wind
might winnow the chaff.
Stephen C. Curro
calm river
again, his fishing line
caught on a tree
James Norcliffe
Sarsaparilla Road
travels through swamps
and reeds, over a black
water creek and a narrow bridge
David Hanlon
Not in that parking lot,
not in that residential area,
not in that blue car
splashed with mud.
Mana Misaghi
we make sure to pack a deck of cards for the train, or a sunday afternoon visit to the park. the cards will give our hands something tangible to do . . .
Taḋg Paul
An algorithm guides me through the keys
Each stanza nested in a formal loop
Mat Riches
Hey kid, this won’t mean that much to you yet,
but I didn’t taste my first proper curry
till at least twenty-one . . .
David Sapp
Aimless between
Dropping out
Of art school
And absolutely no
Friggin’ money . . .