Today’s choice

Previous poems

Elaine Baker

 

 

 

To my Ovaries

My cahoonas. My muscular daisies.
Potent white olives. You make me sick.

My mute twins on tricycles. Femme fatales.
Relay racers. Nightmares wished upon stars.

In my brain you’re pendula on speed.
My climax on the horror film screen.

You are landmines inside me,
birth and death simultaneously,

two tickers, with all a heart’s grief,
none of its mercy. You’re mad for procreation.

You’re my future on the run.
My past gunned down in the street.

 

 

Elaine Baker is the author of poetry chapbooks: Dancing in Babylon, Winter with Eva (both V Press) and five-point-palm (Red Ceilings Press). She lives in the wilds of Norfolk.  Find her on X @kitespotter, Instagram @elainebaker76 and at: www.elaine-baker.com

Jenny Hockey

That’s when she went to ground,
after she disobeyed, painted her plastic tea set
red, hidden away in the playhouse they built
down where bindweed draped

Nick Cooke

If when you go to the barber today
He asks if you’d like him to ‘tidy up your ears’,
Think of all the wildest sprawling vegetation
That will never be tidied, or trimmed, by clippers or shears,

David Thompson

Scrolling through my inbox I hold down
the shift key, select all and mass delete
briefly feel the repose of the therapist’s couch.