Today’s choice
Previous poems
John Grey
Just in Case You’d Forgotten
there are some lives
lived poolside
and others that
mostly consist of
a bent back in a field –
some are chauffeured
some are piled into the backs of trucks
driven fifty miles
from border to farm
on rough roads –
some lives make deals
others deal with what’s dealt them –
all are dripping wet –
a few from beads of chlorine
most from sweat
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, River And South and The Alembic. Latest books, Subject Matters, Between Two Fires and Covert are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Paterson Literary Review, White Wall Review and Cantos.
Bel Wallace
Month by month I felt my muscles harden
these hefty horns grew from my long skull
Stephen Keeler
Something about arriving somewhere new
just as afternoon is leaving . . .
Geraldine Stoneham
The silence and peace of this place
creeps through on birdsong.
Emma Lee
The instruction invites overthinking:
describe your hometown through
the medium of simple sentences
Vanessa Napolitano
I ask my father to dinner, pretending he is still alive,
ask him what he’d like. He says a pork chop which is not
something I know how to cook.
David Forrest
I don’t know why you bother with poetry Vlad mutters as he adjusts the current in the magnets, forcing them to rhyme with each other.
Neil Fulwood
Today’s operative on the ohrwurm shift
has hacked the WiFi password
in the ear canal and now I’m looping back
endlessly to a misheard lyric . . .
Ira Lightman
Laid down, his upraised face is
White – offputting – on a plumped pillow.
Dave Wynne-Jones
“The all-consuming passion
is rarely found
more than a recipe
for misery,”
you read