Today’s choice

Previous poems

Peter Daniels

 

 

 

Changes

No, no one is who they think they are,
nor what we think they are, either:
the demon inside is thinking it
and you can’t tell him.

Being lion or crab, how did you imagine
how your life started , what it became,
reinterpreted as a pig,
recast as a snail?

Old man flattered into desire for what
he was, his own self half his age,
look at the change in him, look
at what he wants again.

Make me a new set of cells, give me
a new Russian identity, send me off
with a mission to understand
myself again, my facts.

You want a new self, too. You have
reasons to get into my inside,
and me into yours. You
animal. You angel.

 

 

Peter Daniels has published four poetry collections, the latest Old Men (Salt, 2024). He has a Creative Writing PhD from Goldsmiths, has translated Vladislav Khodasévich from Russian (Angel Classics, 2013), and as queer writer in residence at the London Archives wrote the obscene Ballad of Captain Rigby. Website: www.peterdaniels.org.uk

Jo Farrant

We’re stuck on a scene, frozen, like the ice cubes I begged Mum to get with the little flowers in them. Like taking a test in the school gym but your knees are so big they’re banging into the desk.

Opeyemi Oluwayomi

They are piercing knife between
the city, detaching the body from the head,
& squeezing the blood out of the flesh,
so there can be an end to what hasn’t begun.