Today’s choice
Previous poems
Julian Dobson
The small press publisher
You too I guess
have studied the surviving starlings
as they swoop and whistle
by the snack trailer at Moorfoot
glinting for crumbs of flaky pastry
like a glimpsed field of dandelions
and everything turns holy – you
shouldering your bag
of printer-fresh smooth pages
halting the gutterwebbed streets
with round words, delicate
as dust-jackets. See
how those walked syllables
arc into hollow air
in tattily furnished function rooms
or slip through letterboxes,
little pearly grenades.
Julian Dobson’s work has appeared in numerous print and online journals, including Stand, The Rialto, and Tears in the Fence. Julian lives in Sheffield but hasn’t yet learned to love mushy peas.
Stephen Komarnyckyj
you are the shadow slipping through the mirror
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.
Douglas K Currier
Afternoon hangs in the air, and the birds leave.
Frogs begin to talk to each other, and the heat congeals.
Stephen Chappell
If you could call that friend,
the special one,
the one you always love and know loves you
Marius Grose
Until the dead, sucked from leaf mould graves
are rising in forest sap, to make connections
inside strange green brains
Andrew Keyman
a day later you’re in l.a. picking out cars with the magic
only money can buy
Chrissy Banks
So many times I walked
head down half asleep
along that ordinary road to school
Christopher M James
She’d had the two of us, had learnt
how children bury their riddles, how love
unearths them
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.