Blight
A tangle of growing things filled your belly: made your shrinking stomach bulge. Strings turned taut; drawn across each bend and curve now struck bare. Arid, audible – a space between each branch yawning. Fissure in the breeze. Chewed or gnawed: your fraying edges expanded the light between yo
The Rhymelessness of Orange
The tangerine played hard to get, Full-pipped and bursting ’til it wept In half a drop – and in the bed it Let itself, still pressurised, Implode. And now, I see the eyes (Tomorrow’s seeds) come whining. Lungs segment and shine with Pithy veins of difficult. The reeling brains unsqueeze A
Poetry is useless
i dive into a poem naked to find clothes too loose to fit; a dead grandfather’s batik shirt buttoned down a sun burnt chest […]
The Changing Face of Poetry
Mukahang Limbu is explaining to me why he writes poetry. “It can make you feel like you’re being heard. Coming from a marginalised background, and not having much representation in the literary canon, that can make you feel invisible. But being able to write yourself into that canon is reall
Poetry
reading your facial expressions i interpret screenplay, dramatizations of us rendered larger than life in a rousing performance of scientific discovery you softly diagnose anatomical anomalies: brow bone, lumbar vertebrae, clavicle – skin-adhered-eyes in lab-issue goggles, curiosity unchecked,
Gilette, Cardi B and Chechnya’s Anti-LGBT Purge
Some things never change. Brexit is still a shitshow, masculinity is still fragile and The ISIS team have decided that what they’ve got to say is worth sharing with you. We figured that it can be hard to keep up with the rapid pace of news and pop culture during the busy weekdays so we’v
Poetry Weekly – Kei Patrick
Bazaar. We aar we aar bazaar bazaar we cannot help but lose time lose it whatever we aar we do bazaar ………things.
Poetry Weekly – Flux
Flux Kei Patrick ………………………What ……………………………………….am …………………………….I ………̷