Today’s choice

Previous poems

Paul Stephenson

 

 

 

Attraction

Like one of those horses
on the carousel

going round and round in circles
sliding up and down a pole

for three minutes
then stopping a while

then starting again
for three minutes

sliding up and down a pole
in circles going round and round

on the carousel
like one of those horses

going round and round in circles
sliding up and down a pole

for three minutes
then stopping a while

then starting again
for three minutes

sliding up and down a pole
in circles going round and round

on the carousel
like one of those horses

 

Paul Stephenson’s debut collection is Hard Drive (Carcanet, 2023), shortlisted for the Lambda Literary Award and Polari Book Prize. His last pamphlet was Selfie with Waterlilies (Paper Swans Press, 2017). He recently co-edited the ‘Ownership’ (92) issue of Magma Poetry and helps programme Poetry in Aldeburgh. Website: paulstep.com

Olivia Tuck

      Vaccine The needle hits the deltoid with a moon-cold urgency; its jolt of fluid is ice barely thawed. Relax – sharp scratch. I hold myself against this detergent-white light. On the journey home, my pupils dilate: for the first time in months, I...

Kathleen McPhilemy

      The Poetry Arm Today was all left-handed. I’ve slapped it on the wrist, wrapped what it’s written, hidden in a file, locked behind a password: a little bomb of bitterness I couldn’t post online. My left hand’s the clumsy one blundering on the...

Lalah-Simone Springer

      How to pronounce Dagenham For Jodie Chesney First relax ur froat, ur maaf, ur vibe Not much to do about not much to do so ya chat shit: Wiv ya white shirt unbuttoned over West Ham strip Clanging pawnshop platinum on a baby blackbird’s chest. Narmy...

Sarah Davies

      Fond The Earth is not even fond of us anymore or the Goddess or the bees or the glowing children. Only dogs entertain a tolerance for us - we earned it over time, blackmail of bones and treats, but some dogs want to bite, recalling, howl, they...

Poulami Somanya Ganguly

      Here I am, again after John Yau & the room is cold with its geometry of faces a child looks through cellophane & imagines an escape a place moves in time like a needlepoint on water often it’s hard to tell what’s real from reflection as a...

Anuradha Vijayakrishnan

      Brief moments of light We walked by that lake each evening, within an inch of holding hands. Tiny firefish rushed to water’s edge to taste the aftermath of our feet. Vagrant water hyacinth and lonely snakebirds listened as we talked and talked....

Sinéad McClure

      When is the zombie apocalypse? I might not make it. March 13th, 2020; The ghosts of Sligo's cholera outbreak walk us to the Lidl store, lurch when they see the masked and ready murmur tightly across the specials. I buy bamboo coffee cups, breathe...

Ofem Ubi

      and so it goes… two boys neck-deep in a boiling argument talking about which album is best Made In Lagos or A Better Time a man calls beer the devil’s urine you do not swallow poison and expect to blossom a boy regurgitates the faces of exes...

Jack Emsden

      In the form of a joke After Steven Wright I got a humidifier and a dehumidifier put them in the same room let them fight it out now my house is all shiny a confusion of moisture finding holes in the walls I watch the neighbours cooking eggs...