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Two Poems
Sean Borodale
‘To be honest, this is dark stuff; mud, tang / of bitter battery-tasting honey. The woods are in it.’
Two Poems
Eric Anderson
‘Wanting to get it all in, like / Xerxes tipping his army’s arrows / with saltpeter / so to ignite the Grecian sky.’
A Cloudless Sky
Michael Dickman
‘A cloudless sky and I’m back / an ice-cold sky-blue rag / for my eyes’
The Old Fuel
Emily Berry
‘And I'm / cranking out oodles of love the way an old spaghetti machine / cranks out spaghetti.’
Two Poems
John Balaban
‘Her mother planted a garden in Manhattan. / In that garden is a tree. Some look on it and feel restored. / Others, when the wind lifts its leaves, want to scream.’
Opening Invocation
Jean-Paul de Dadelsen
‘Or otherwise, leaving the shore of the intermediate sea, / has it been a while since they’ve gone ahead / into the interior of lands of the spirit?’
Self-Portrait as Amnesiac
John Burnside
‘Shoeboxes lined with eggs and empty / pomegranates drying in a bowl, / mousebones and wicker, chess pieces, muddled coats.’
