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.
Bill Jones
Three jackdaws walked widdershins
around the birdfeeding station.
Zumwalt
I see
how you see
us in meetings:
merchandise
to slip
off
the shelf.
Anya Reeve
Stubborn, we closed our fists
To better ward away the brume
John Grey
it’s more
of a gathering
than a town
Antony Dunn
Have you heard the one about
how I’m hoping to bow out –
playing guitar for the Cure
Alex Scarborough
I measure distance in Spotify playlists
so I can’t be trusted with maps.
Myra Schneider
Forget the invisible network of servers which stores
and manages or mismanages data in the unending sky
far above our heads . . .
Sef
The body is not solid. The body is almost perfect.
Jon Miller
The upper floor of the old byre
a darkness made of owl-stare—
its blink drinks you in.