Today’s choice
Previous poems
Tristan Moss
Faith
… without any irritable reaching
after fact and reason. John Keats
I try
not to think
about my daughter’s
condition
when I
hug her
as all
I have to do
is think about
how I walk
down the stairs
to lose my feet.
Tristan Moss has recently had poems published in Litter Magazine, Tears in the Fence and Snakeskin. In 2023, he published a pamphlet called Ligaments, with The Red Ceilings Press. @tristan-moss.bsky.social
Cindy Botha
I notice her because she doesn’t have a dog
in an afternoon of dog-walkers
Alex Josephy
the goddess of the library
extends in cloth-bound curves
along a lettered shelf
Ben Banyard
There were hundreds of them, all in period costume,
each generation explained who they were,
queued like at a wedding reception to greet us.
Lindsay McLeod Espinoza
Venus passed over the south node of the Moon today
Ilse Pedler
She offered up her linen bag to me, said
pick a shell my lady and I’ll tell your fortune
Sue Butler
Squirrels have beheaded all my parrot tulips
and the supermarket is out of chilli, also tabasco sauce.
Cormac Culkeen
the sun is a
white coin
lifted
from the sea
Maurice Devitt
Yes, you gave us your elegant hands
and capricious smile, but as I make my way
to the chiropodist this morning,
it’s your feet I’m thinking of . . .
Martin Ferguson
Pursue the facsimile
of the attendance sign;
here you must join the line.