Today’s choice

Previous poems

Matt Gilbert

 

 

 

A Rat Decides to Change its Place
 
Disgust springs up from the guts
to meet a sprinting lump
of furry muscle.

Only to be ambushed
by a brilliance of nose, a skittering
perfection of racing claws,

Sleek brown legs, pumping
from the stewed-tea shade
of rain damp oaks

scud towards a pool, below
a crumbled, redbrick efficiency
of Victorian engineering.

Solid body plunging into water,
with the same gratifying, staccato plop
a stone makes, as it hits the target.

 

 

Matt Gilbert is from Bristol, but currently lives in South London. His work has appeared in various publications, including Dust, Ink Sweat & Tears and The Rialto. His debut collection Street Sailing was published by Black Bough Poetry in 2023.

Emily A. Taylor

I move my hand long
so yours will follow, and though
this moment tastes of tequila soda
paracetamol pillowed on a fizzing tongue
amnesia… pull me in anyway.

Steph Morris

No way would they let him keep that tag. They saw
a boy they must rename, must mark
from them, a boy whose limbs folded far too gently,

Eryn McDonald

It is here that the day breaks apart
Like ice on frustrated frozen pond
Here in the grounds of Ashton Court
I wish to bury myself amongst the green