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.

Peter Daniels

No, no one is who they think they are,
nor what we think they are, either:
the demon inside is thinking it
and you can’t tell him.

Anne Ryland

Restless two-hundred-year-old village elder,
a ragged playground of words, or is it weeds –
fragments of chant to slaps of skipping rope.