Joe Swift knew nothing of musick
“I flicked a farthing// to the best busker in all the universe and wandered/ home with rushing-watermill ears..” Weekend poem, by Adam Heardman.
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The Language of Fish
“Listen to the murmur of the fish-woman in the wet market/ who speaks a dialect in which the word for thank you is a bow,/ sincere and deep.” Poem of the Week (May 20), by Jay Bernard.
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Question
“I think of my own mother/ folded tight into/ her warm dark bed/ of Mississippi Delta clay.” Weekend poem (May 18), by Susan Castillo Street.
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flood and shatter
“When the hurricane hit, the water rushed backwards./ Black water bubbling up and out from the drain/ with a pungent stink…” Poem of the Week (May 13), by Loretta Oleck.
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Tarazoo
“I see cracked brown hands/ pick a pair of amrood/ on two stems kissing like cherries.”
Weekend poem (May 11), by Yusra Amjad.
Hilda Horsley’s Alarm Clock
“At eight o’clock in the morning a piece/ of shrapnel burrowed its tick into the small/ intestine, like clockwork…” Poem of the Week (May 6), by Emily Webb.
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For La Llorona
“come when the rains/ will not stain your/ lily-white shroud// where the sun/ will not freeze/ your blood…” Weekend poem, by David Ishaya Osu.
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Raptures
“‘Conies’, whispers Wisdom Smith, ‘require calm,/ dawn craft and a down-wind’…” Poem of the Week, from the Wenlock Festival. By David Morley.
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Thunder, Lightning etc.
“Our lightning strikes would laser half the town…/ A childhood, if you’re lucky, should be this.” Weekend poem from the Wenlock Festival, by Luke Wright.
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TÄrÄ at the Prom
“There were only skeletons at the prom but/ TÄrÄ was not afraid…” Poem of the Week (April 22), by Ottilie Mulzet.
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