Today’s choice

Previous poems

Ken Evans

 

 

Octopus

I am one Like short of being beautiful.
Five hundred more Followers, I’m away
to fight culture wars. I Block two for lies
Quora does not verify. Counter-factuals
are ok, there’s simmering wastelands
to make out of vague, but someone sent
a shroom Emoji I do not understand
the meaning of, though all Emojis
are cuckoo spit on new pasture.

I love the chaste, hard summaries of AI,
all-knowing and naive as the christchild,
a friend, reading headlines in bathwater
we share and if viewed from beyond
the bathroom door, it’s hard to say where
one green, suckering leg ends and another
begins. We are like octopus in small crevices
the oceans flow through to gyrate, moil us.

 

 

Ken Evans’ collection, ‘A Full-on Basso Profundo’ (Salt) published 2025. He won the Kent & Sussex; runner-up, Daily Telegraph and AUB; commended, Cafe Writer’s. Poems in Magma, Poetry Scotland, Acumen, UtR.

Gerry Stewart

      In My Last Phone Call Did I say it looks like rain? I meant the sky is black with a thirst only crying can quench, clouds smothering the hills. Did I say this was my home? It was a mistake. The walls are collapsing even as I paint myself into a...

S Reeson

There is no evidence anywhere that Albert Einstein ever said the definition of insanity is ‘is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results’ except there he is, all over the Internet, being attributed with having done exactly that.