Today’s choice
Previous poems
Autumn Richardson
Hive
What you are –
bodied light, a store of oil
a hive of warm blood
chemicals flooding a brain, calculating
a furnace
filament of awareness in
a palpating dark
a treeless dark
a stone-edged dark
coal river dark.
Flesh and its impermanence.
Autumn Richardson is a poet, editor and translator. Since 2009 she has been co-director of multimedia publishing house Corbel Stone Press. Her most recent pamphlet is The Long Before (CSP 2026). She lives in Connemara, Ireland. www.instagram.com/autumnrichardson_poet
Matt Gilbert
Disgust springs up from the guts
to meet a sprinting lump
of furry muscle.
Kathleen Bryson
I am the dreaming herpetogaster chimera and
I am part-and-parcel of the impossible animals project.
Scott Lilley
I’ve seen dozens of you about the Fylde,
face all vape, fatigue, some wild sense of
beard, black hair to border it all.
Rich Yates
The bird
crept up on him, threw its voice into an empty tree
Annie Kissack
Girl Awaits the Psychic Investigators They’re late. The table is laid with a clean cloth, all normal and neat. Our visitors, city men, may find it hard to navigate the path but we can wait. They hope to gather evidence of a haunting; whether he’ll...
Jim Murdoch
We don’t decide who we love.
Who we hate, yes,
who we’re jealous of,
but never who we end up loving.
Alex Stolis
It’s 16 below zero. Actual temp. We’re sole owners of the shore, windchill pushes it down to minus 36.
Ashia Mirza
Someone is taking a photo
at a wedding
of their baby
at a celebration.
Phil Vernon
These hills that look towards both weald and waves
hold – in their homesteads, fenced and open land,
trackways and contours – all that’s happened here