Explore poetry
The Republic of Motherhood
Liz Berry
‘a cardigan / soft as a creature, smelling of birth and milk’ – New poetry from Liz Berry.
You Guys
Ocean Vuong
‘I’m too tired she said / to be this happy / & we laughed without / moving our hands’
Relinquish
Kazim Ali
‘I haven’t learned very much in my life, I’ve just become a more / Choreographed disaster’
Three Poems
Karen McCarthy Woolf
‘May it not be / that they owe their fleshiness / to the cumulative effect?’
A Pinch of Salt
Andrea Brady
‘When we’re close to weaning / ourselves history gives us its reasons / to return’
Three Poems
Kim Kyung Ju
‘Underneath the leaves that stack my upper lip / the reindeer do not share their love.’ Translated from the Korean by Jake Levine.
Two Poems
Natalie Shapero
‘If I had no money for every time / I saw a stock photo of an empty / pocket being pulled inside-out, I’d / have no money.’
Mars is a Stupid Planet
Matthew Rohrer
‘Even astronauts describe / our air as thick enough to slice / and spread on toast for breakfast.’
Two Poems
Pascale Petit
‘His sheets smell of formalin. / She feels as if her insides // are outside her, in a freezer.’
Fourth Person Singular
Nuar Alsadir
‘The wet in the air is like signal anxiety: life is about to / change.’
The Remains of the Day
Emily Berry
‘I am lying in the foetal position on a beach in the east of England.’
Portrayal: A Double Portrait
Edward Doegar
‘You can’t control your face / The Empire has over-reached / Expressions // Have become flags’
Two Poems
Vahni Capildeo
‘Fingers twirl / composite stems whose colour / twist rock-candies, snake-ladders / precious yellow, less-rare green.’
Traffic
Rae Armantrout
‘Music needs silence / more than silence needs music.’ New poetry by Rae Armantrout.
Enjaracon Sponaeda
Will Alexander
‘how can all the pressures of surveillance / fail to describe me?’
Heavily Redacted
Luiza Flynn-Goodlett
‘Syllables are excised by / X-Acto, fed into a shredder / for good measure.’
The Adventures of Amit Majmudar
Amit Majmudar
‘Never laid a snare for nothin. / Never caught a bullfrog. Broke / my slingshot wishbone, wishin. / Never had a smoke.’ New poetry from Amit Majmudar.
I’ll Come Later Tomorrow
J.V. Foix
‘all in black, her arms raised in the air, their shadow sketching some malign bird I couldn’t recognize’
