Today’s choice

Previous poems

Jaymz Lea

by | Nov 6, 2026 | ,

 

 

 

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

Jenny Scoones

by | Aug 29, 2026 | ,

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.
 

Janet Hatherley

by | Aug 25, 2026 | ,

      In my cookery exam, we have to prepare a family meal This is summer and Mum can’t put out her trot line with its hooks because of swimmers so I buy three mackerel from the fishmonger. I cycle to the school bus stop one arm on the handlebar,...