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 MagmaPoetry IrelandPoetry WalesThe 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).

Ansuya Patel

Women scrape coins from their purse,
count pennies, one lifts up a watermelon
in mid-air like raising a newborn to light.

Abiodun Salako

a boy grows tired
of dying again and again.

                                                                                                                                       i am building him a morgue
                                                                                                                                                       for Thanksgiving.

Patrick Wright

It’s as if the dream
is telling me we are still joined
somehow, despite waking
and me trudging on, even though
your voicemail is off, your locks
changed.

William Collins

We carry the shame of Paragraph 352D
folded into suitcases at foreign borders,
where love is questioned like a crime,
and disbelief stamped heavier than visas.
They tell us to run for our lives —
but only if we can do it quietly.

Oz Hardwick

The ghost of my mother knows the names of everything, but
she can’t tell me, because ghosts, whatever you have heard
to the contrary, can’t speak.

Warren Mortimer

& you’ll understand if i leave open this theatre of air
not as the invite for another loss
but to honour their world unwilling to collapse

Jena Woodhouse

Language reinvents itself,
coruscates in signs on walls;
falls silent, mute as clay and stone
on tablets that enshrine its form.