Today’s choice
Previous poems
Andrew Keyman
what you mean to me
wiping tears with drink coasters in soho
revolving around how you’ll both leave and stay
men in the window you kissing my jaw by the pints
i didn’t drink by the ashtray asking when
the arrogance of thinking that anything could be mine
a day later you’re in l.a. picking out cars with the magic
only money can buy
blooming in your vision that we’d find would never come
i’m good at what i do
convincing me and you
taking the tube but never really being there
falling in love with the stranger in the fubu
my neighbour in the kitchen fixing
dinner for his children as an old tired clown
in a fresco of a heaven
forgetting how i left you
sighing out my shoes
my housemate missing calls
and hearing porn behind the drywall
Andrew Keyman is a poet and artist from Bracknell, England. he was raised by his mother after his father was imprisoned for paedophilia. His work examines religion, goodness and the British working class. He was featured in Bottled Water Research (2019). Instagram: @andrewkeyman
Mark Carson
he dithers round the kitchen, lifts his 12-string from her hook,
strikes a ringing rasgueado, the echo bouncing back
emphatic from the slate flags and off the marble table.
Elizabeth Worthen
This is how (I like to think) it begins:
night-time, August, the Devon cottage, where
the darkness is so complete . . .
Elly Katz
When naked with myself, I feel where a right elbow isn’t, then is. I let my left palm guide me through the exhibition of my body.
Laurence Morris
The night of his arrest I climbed a hill
to find a deep cave in which to hide
Sarp Sozdinler
As a kid, Nehisi used to sleep in a treehouse. He could curl right into it from his bedroom window. He would have a hard time falling asleep every time his parents got loud or physical.
Three poems on Counting for National Poetry Day: Max Wallis, Julie Anne Jenson, Brian Kelly
I don’t wear them
or have any
but you gave me a pair
of seven-inch goth platform heels.
Fizza Abbas
They say change is a constant,
but this constant became a coefficient
always racing to catch me
Scott Elder
What will you do in winter dear when drifts
cover your fingers and shoes
Laura Webb, Edward Alport, and Jaime del Adarve: Day 3 (re)place feature
Tour of the Excavation Collaged from text in the ‘Ice Age to Iron Age’ gallery at the Great North Museum, Newcastle, UK The enigma is why this civilisation became extinct at the same time as a peak in carbon 14, which is a natural element, but in...