Today’s choice

Previous poems

Jaymz Lea

 

 

 

Inflammation

My mum always says, I get where water wouldn’t.
When he drank me, I left myself somewhere sunken
living beside a leopard seal. I’m happiest after I’ve gotten wet
an ocean, a bath, a puddle, a bottle of Costco’s finest mineral.
Without water I panic, gulp down those unspeakable things
I don’t even have words for. Do you ever see pictures
from holidays in your childhood? I try not to.
I must gate keep my senses or else the child in me will rip
and shred everyone to pieces, gorge on their guilt
for not being there, not taking notice, not protecting
something so small and pretty and thoroughly good.
For never asking what was the matter. I’d leave them
in their own water, gurgling. I ask my sister, where was we
in that picture? She says, doll, your memory is terrible.

 

 

Jaymz Lea (he/they) is a queer human, mental health professional, published academic and poet. They write about human interiors – those othered outed and ousted. He’s an excitable nature geek, sharing much adult life with his ferocious cat, Effie. Insta: @hiraeth_tara

Jane Spray

I’m just an ordinary dryad
not like fancy Eurydice   with her sun god father
keep things simple   I say   I don’t have her dilemmas

Paul Stephenson

The poem of the mask disguises meaning.
The poem of the diet lost seven words.

The poem of the snowman melted.
The poem of the invisible man.

Emma  Farmer

Your face was on a bus pass,
your hair falling around your face like a curly straw,
pressed in a puddle between the Queen’s old face
and an Aldi receipt for slippers and chicken.

Carson Wolfe

I owned a g-string like this,
the back connected by a rhinestone butterfly.

Starved myself at school to save
my dinner money, bought it from Poundland.