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Month: April 2019

Hay Shed

Posted on 29/04/2019 by emjay

Weathered and old. Shabby and grey Abandoned, alone Forgotten and left.   Standing, silent. Stubborn and hard. Flaking planks folded across his chest.   Patient. Waiting. Silent for years. Bursting with bales And secrets he kept.   And so I ask What do you know? My secrets. My loves. Remembered I wept.   Wearing a…

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zigzag

Posted on 16/04/2019 by Mark Prisco

no-one hears when you call like wind cares if you live build the wall. the wall.   keep yr mouth shut after the night you’ve had dreams give it away.   what good. there’s something to be said for. nothing to be said, oh, city –   london, say, bustling w the dead, ashes; gold…

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long live the revolution

Posted on 10/04/2019 by Mark Prisco

– is miracle was unmade lit the match that made the flame   burning hear us   is no app smart enuf i smite am smitten w love yr indifference   hear us if- only-because   unmake me everything me fish   winged things everything made not   in my image is nothing these theological…

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Playhouse

Posted on 09/04/2019 by emjay

The dusty taste of chalk and the smell of a friendly old blanket on the floor.  Milky sun through flappy plastic windows. Browning sellotape framing where it tore.   Built from a car crate, the splinters made the games more real. The bridge of a battleship. Calling the shots. A hospital ward. To heal.   …

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Eliot Ness Is Getting Cranky

Posted on 08/04/2019 by john keast

Eliot Ness is getting cranky He needs to land a punk I expect bloodshed Two dead is a bad day He hates triggermen, sly-groggers, guys (and broads) in rackets Chicago is teeming: Chancers with tommy guns leaning from the doors of cars When he meets a doll he runs his fingers over the brim of his…

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Two At Autumn

Posted on 06/04/201903/05/2019 by Dean English

1 Black cows graze at fence line young bulls, watching me bowl. Ball after ball after ball to one batter, an Opener. No one else arrived to face as I hit my stride bowling tall with movement barely two wides in it. Run-up timing perfect working on his weak-spot rib high, not quite leg. Sweat…

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The Futility of Lawnmowing

Posted on 06/04/201906/04/2019 by emjay

Another hour on a grimy mower. Wheels guided, in their rut. Engine’s harsh rattle rumbling dull static in my gut.   Engine hour counter clicking over inevitably. Anaemic autumn grass regrowing defiantly.   Endless, pointless route. Up and back. Up and down. Monochromatic stripes. Verdant corduroy lawn.    A fuchsia streak cuts across the green…

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Summer Laundry

Posted on 01/04/2019 by emjay

Towels and sheets caressed by purple fingers on each rotation. A shirt’s casual sag masks its desperate reach. Arms straining for frayed cuffs to be dabbed with perfume. A composed pillowcase squared-off in knowing ease that summer’s heat will lift the scent in wafting waves warmed with the sound of bees. Simple genius. Planting lavender…

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