Today’s choice

Previous poems

Jenny Scoones

 

 

 

After,

We unlearn how it felt to touch
And resume our separate days in shirts and trousers,
Like hazmats against the sun and its longing,
The moon with its underbelly pulls.
 
On the pillow I turn away from you, 
Burn sage to ward off the memory. 
You will only ever have been a moment of contact, 
The way the waves forget the rocks they grind to dust. 

 

Jenny Scoones is a poet and researcher based in London. She is a KDSAH funded PhD student at King’s College London, and her debut poetry pamphlet, ‘Mixing Blood’, is forthcoming from fourteen poems.

Helen Finney

At my feet the window sprawls a view of kneaded land,
craggy baked by the hand of the gods, dusted green
with short bit grass.

Eugene O’Hare

It hasn’t been this bright all year –
the moon’s white scalp, spot-lit,

a head turned away from a thing
the rest of us fear: unearthly dark