Mitch on a Kent Road at Night
Underneath the cold dust of night, skin coated in its sharp spit, he’s bobbing headlight first into the centre of the road, chin jutting out like a speedbump. Soon, the rubber will gravel him again—wrap and warp his skin—and slide him slick across the tarmac, beetroot nucleus pulposus.
Cordiform
Tick tick. Some animals need their loves far away from them. With the canned freeze, phone flickering under a blanket, I could almost understand. Pinecones in the boreal forest are right now closing up on their own warmth, Mr. Attenborough tells me, while long ears and pads have become pelt casings
Promised Lands
I saw you last on Hestia’s hill head high, solemn and waxed in weightpaste, holding the Olympic flare defiantly over the valley— its firelight, bright in marble-star night, falling softly on matted grass, its kindling sparks like flies in measle-blotch blisters and hives upon the scarfaced sca
family curses
after clytemnestra’s husband returns from the ten-year war, she hacks him to death with an axe. she says a curse made her do it. her son kills her in revenge. all the while — birdsong. i. the first year // petrification we were happy until the summer i turned ten. i hadn’t lear
Midweek Cooking
This is mid-week cooking at its best—long, laborious and deeply discomforting. Traipse through the door at six, unfeeling, you’re too tired to do anything but this only takes two hours. Dinner comes together in three pans and your rusty Le Creuset, which makes washing up a dream. It could
In St James
In St James I lay sun-brushed and smothered; The seeping day flowed beneath the midday Air, the slow June sky hung high above, Spreading swimming shadows about My feet. The multrees whispered as away – Far away – their branches and furrowed leaves Brushed felted rushes. They spoke
Firsts
The first draft is almost always completely scrapped, reworded, reworked, refined, crumpled, torn up, and tossed away. The first pancake never turns out quite right–– does the first child? Everyone remembers their firsts: first steps, first kiss, first love, the first man on the moon. N
Three Movements
I: Allegro Scherzando in the stalls i was sitting with her (not she) while she (not her) sat high in the gods with a fairly mid-looking boy, despite which she kept looking at me through movements iv and v and though i saw her see me, never did i see her see me see her, […]
BEFORE THE CLOCK STRIKES TWENTY
o ambition! o hand of fate! here’s a deal: my girlhood for the rest of my life. pat me on the head, lead me into the woods, then either shoot me or shake my hand. i’ve made it this far––i’ve tricked you this far–– i’ve sat and stayed and obeyed this far–– i’ve not asked [&hel
