Today’s choice

Previous poems

Ewen Glass

 

 

 

Dog’s Life

Listening to a memoir
and discovering the writer’s dog
is on the same SSRI as you
is an odd feeling;

I don’t horn in on a dog’s life,
chase balls, sniff crotches,
but our brains work in similar ways
it seems: carrot, sticks, a reward

called being there.

 

Ewen Glass is a poet from Northern Ireland who lives with two dogs, a tortoise and a body of self-doubt; his poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in the likes of Atrium, Abridged, Poetry Scotland and HAD. Bluesky/X/IG: @ewenglass

Sarah Nathan

The ash that screams into the night,
the lake that dries, the child amongst the rubble,
the heat, the fire, the lack of books,

Philip Athans

Never shows up late to a single thing he’s invited to
Always brings the most thoughtful and carefully curated and perfect gift
Never shows up early and never once overstays his welcome
Always appears well groomed and clean and appropriately dressed

Jenny Scoones

We unlearn how it felt to touch
And resume our separate days in shirts and trousers,
Like hazmats against the sun and its longing,
The moon with its underbelly pulls.