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
Jim Paterson
Shove it, that farewell
and the sky shimmering with frost
and the waves wrecking on the shore
Philip Rush
Tom’s advice, mind you,
was to drink hot chocolate
last thing at night
on a garden bench
beneath the moon.
Rosie Jackson
Today, I talked with a friend about death
and what it means to have arrived in my life
before I have to leave it . . .
Mariam Saidan
they said sing in private,
Zan shouldn’t sing.
Brian Kirk
The train is the way,
the tracks a scar cut
deep in the land
you can’t help but touch.
Michelle Diaz
Mum was
a raised axe and a party hat.
Alice O’Malley-Woods
i run like a goat
tongue-lolled
Caiti Luckhurst
But first the sun has to break in two
Mara Adamitz Scrupe
on that new broke land I don’t anymore
recall there may have been a tree line or a hedgerow
a grove named & a bird’s sternum