Today’s choice

Previous poems

Jenny Hockey

 

 

 

Circulation

Crouched above the stream he dug,
known by his kid-along brother
as the dry gulch, its circulation pump
rarely switched on, I’m not just

weeding but digging wormy compost
into the banks, pruning the hebe
and dredging winter’s detritus, banishing
slime and renewing the silted pebbles,

till by the end of this warm afternoon
a long bubbling flow springs from the top
of the garden, hurrying between rocks
before tumbling into the pond and back

as he comes home with a coin of blood
on the bandage at his wrist, occlusions
in his arteries, an aortic valve on the blink
and a hospital date some months ahead.

Later we talk gardening, my daughter
and I, the clogged stream, free-flowing
now. In some societies that’d be
job done, she says — we laugh.

 

 

Jenny Hockey is a Sheffield poet who’s published in magazines such as The North; Ink Sweat & Tears; The Frogmore Papers and Dreamcatcher. She reviews for Orbis and her collection, Going to bed with the moon appeared in 2019 (overstepsbooks.com) (jennyhockeypoetry.co.uk)

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.

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