Today’s choice
Previous poems
Michelle Diaz
The Fallen Angel
This is just a woman,
sticking her life back together
after years spent recovering.
But the sky blackens,
everything grows dark and minor.
Unasked for, he appears again.
What instruments does the demon use?
Metal spoons on corrugated iron.
A cacophony of slammed doors.
Which smell does he summon?
Unbreathable rage,
with a hint of sulphur.
What is the essence of the visitation?
All hell let loose in a terraced house.
A loss of compass bearings.
Which God does she call on?
The one she’s always known.
The only one she can depend on.
Will the heavens intercede?
Let’s call it a work in progress.
Michelle Diaz has been published by Poetry Wales, Under the Radar, 14 Magazine and numerous poetry journals. Her debut pamphlet The Dancing Boy was published in 2019 by Against the Grain. Her pamphlet Raising Ghosts was published in 2026 by Atomic Bohemian.
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.
Salvatore Difalco
No green swell this evening
will detach me from my hat.
Annah Atane
That night,
the stars had slept. The wind
silent as something dying.
Jake Roberts
hamlet asked it to the dark night sea
where do waters end and i begin
Miguel Cullen
The pelican is so dovey, with her funny crème anglaise feathers with pink and her split-ended crest and mouth.