Today’s choice
Previous poems
Patrick Wright
Endings
after the soil exhibition at Somerset House
first i go to finitude while you favour plenitude & birth the source beneath our feet
i recoil at the abject the never-ending cycle of leaves under loam a seedbed for eggs
or spawn this going on & no space for heaven or things to pause or find reprieve
i protest say how when i’m gone i’d like to rest before the choice to return & go through
all this again you sigh as though that’s absurd & endings are just endings we’re mulch
& nothing but endless fucking
mushrooms with your books on toadstools & fairy folk your vision risks nihilism
cells that collide & divide tumours that do whatever they want they too are life
sweet parasites that through a microscope are stellar nurseries solar discs star-stuff
but you insist on star-stuff not just
see a wellspring of microbes microorganisms & minerals go on a rant about mycorrhizae
rhizomes symbolic of a way beyond capitalism
i recall black gold how it began with the wearing of soles that sever us from the cosmos
you gush about mud & marl the morphology of roots how trees are upside down
trees talk to each other like neurones & neurones in tight-knit neighbourhoods
your tears fall over microfauna robbed of enclosures worms in macropores movements
like refugees or the recently evicted
while i’m with muck & the matrix the womb as tomb the putrid metaphysic no room
to resurrect each thorax each springtail’s spark just nodes & networks in the mire
with mould & midden till your arms reach out like tendrils in hope of binding my soul
Patrick Wright’s poems have appeared in Magma, Poetry Ireland, Poetry Wales, The North, and The London Magazine. His debut collection, Full Sight of Her, was published by Eyewear (2020). His second collection, Exit Strategy, was published by Broken Sleep (2025).
Alan Hardy
Made a list.
A record.
The dishes she ate.
Monuments visited.
In Paris.
Susana Arrieta
Tempting death with every cobblestoned step
his face was a collection of broken records
Peter Leight
There’s more waste than we use for the things we ordinarily use waste for, such as piling it on barges and sending them out to sea, tucking it under the surface like a layer of insulation . . .
John Grey
there are some lives
lived poolside
and others that
mostly consist of
a bent back in a field –
Adam Flint
All summer automatic exits remain
open, and no one leaves or boards.
David Van-Cauter
You are pleased to see me
in my gothic T-shirt –
those bats, you say, have been your friends.
Mark Wyatt
yes of course/ it was idyllic, reclining (pint of/ cider in hand) poolside in the harvesting/ sunlight
Catherine Shonack
when confronted with vast, endlessness of the ocean
who wouldn’t go mad?
Ansuya Patel
Women scrape coins from their purse,
count pennies, one lifts up a watermelon
in mid-air like raising a newborn to light.