Two Poems
The truth is, I’m terrified of this body
of water, the way it ripples through
my attempt at freezing it in fabric –
big basketball pants and an oversized men’s tee,
my hips still spin my school skirts
into hurricanes.
Author: ap
Looking for Lagahoos
Jane Jr. thinks she has escaped but she hasn’t. She joins a colony of people like us, plastic people who inject smiles into their mouths and their cheeks. She takes pictures in flitting white linens and wide-brimmed hats and posts them to social media. Her partner does not hit her with his fist, or hit her at all, she says on the phone to Jane, while she applies the powder extra-thick below her eye.
Read MoreRest in Power
GEOFFREY PHILP For Scratch Filing past to offer respect to the remains of the giant who slept in a casket so small you would have thought it was built for a child still dressed in his red schoolboy cap and rings that bedazzled...
Read MoreBasin Tanka, From Memory
AMARA AMARYAH 1 you are medicine. you tell me, my head weighed down water dripping slick paths down my neck. i inhale, squint eyes, resemble someone 2 with dainty palms you weave strands back to their wildness detangling, i...
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Preludes
Did you know Raymond Chandler lived here in Forest Hill? he asked. I grinned because he remembered Chandler was one of my favourite writers. Suddenly it felt good to be in a car driving along unfamiliar roads with a friend. It was early evening, chilly but not too much, and we saw trees that had turned red, orange and gold. We saw blackbirds on fences, and pigeons on old buildings. There were houses and gardens and libraries and museums.
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