Today’s choice
Previous poems
Alex Josephy
DayGlo
after Ecclesiasticus 44.1
Let us now praise hi-vis men
who gather together
round a pothole, filling the gap
with their sticky black remedy.
Honour the yellow-gilet WPC
who knows how to listen,
called to a bus stop
just in time by a lost girl.
Let’s not forget Poppy the neon
lollypop operative,
nor the parakeet-bright
sanitary goods delivery crew.
Tell the DayGlo doozers
how they light our mornings,
gleaming waterproof orange
through the gloom.
Let’s almost die for love
of the one at the very top
of a crane at the boatyard,
sketching an arc in the sky
when his lime green forearm,
matchstick-delicate
from down here, tilts
a lever, sends a loaded pallet
swinging out above the jetty,
calms it to a standstill,
winches it down slo-mo, exactly
where it needs to go.
Alex Josephy lives and writes in Sussex and Italy. Her pamphlet Again Behold the Stars, was a Cinnamon Press award winner 2023. Her third full collection, A Little Bridge, was published by Pindrop Press in 2025. www.alexjosephy.net
Mallika Bhaumik
This is not a frilly, mushy love letter
to a city whose allure lies in defying all labels and holding the mystery key to a man’s heart, though none has ever been able to lay an absolute claim on it,
Jena Woodhouse
Around midnight, the hour when pain
reasserts its dominance, a voice
behind the curtain screening
my bed from the next patient’s:
an intonation penetrating abstract thoughts
Kate Bailey
They’ve mended the park fence again,
patched it over with the usual ugly metalwork,
like a riot barricade.
Ibrar Sami
Across the barren land
where blood once played its savage Holi,
the fearless migratory birds
have returned again.
Anyonita Green
It wobbles slightly, red wine jelly.
I peer at it, nose close enough
to smell the iron, the scent of coagulant,
inhaling through slightly parted lips
Soledad Santana
Seen as she’d hung her cranial lantern
from the roof of her step-father’s garden shed,
the parabolic formula was skipped; like two calves, we followed the fence
to the end of the foot-ball pitch.
Claire Harnett-Mann
Behind the block, the night tears in scrub-calls.
Fox kill scores the morning,
ripped by prints in muck.
Hedy Hume
Stepping into the opposing seat
I smile, and the look I receive
Makes me feel the antisocial one.
Matthew F. Amati
Hands said to Head
look what you’ve made me do
it’s not me, Head said, talk to
Heart, that guy’s sick