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Four Poems

Katie Farris

‘Ungraceful, the heart boinks: / drugged, suspended, spiderwebbed – ’

Four poems by Katie Farris.

Two Poems

Claudine Toutoungi

‘Most of us these days are dead or on autopilot / As for the wolves – they thrive’

Two poems by Claudine Toutoungi.

Nightstand

Natalie Shapero

‘you gotta see this truck that ignored the height sign / on the underpass and now it’s lodged like an overlarge pill’

A poem by Nathalie Shapero.

George

K Patrick

‘Like the way George / Michael filled his jeans. Mothers like a man who can / fill his jeans.’

A poem by K Patrick.

Brother Poem

Will Harris

‘Our snapped-off shadows / made a simple shape / one within the other like / a folded napkin’

Poetry by Will Harris.

Two Poems

Lee Kathryn Hodge

‘Tell me now what it is that dies, gasping for another world in my hand.’

Two poems by Lee Kathryn Hodge.

An Excerpt from sky doc

Joe Carrick-Varty

‘Once upon a time when suicide was a thought / folded inside a thought’

Poetry by Joe Carrick-Varty.

Two Poems

Chia-Lun Chang

‘I often see myself thrusting into soft clouds, hallucinating.’

Two poems from Chia-Lun Chang’s debut poetry collection Prescribee.

Two Poems

Anthony (Vahni) Capildeo

‘A faint resentment paints / the spiral staircase walls / blue all over again’

Two poems from Anthony (Vahni) Capildeo’s work-in-progress Gentle Housework of the Sacrifice.

Three Poems

John Freeman

‘One morning time trips a reel / and I’m confronted with / the object I will become / carpentered for eternity.’

An extract from John Freeman’sWind, Trees.

Three Poems

Cecilia Knapp

Three poems from Cecilia Knapp’s poetry collection, Peach Pig.

On Silk

Sally Wen Mao

‘At the silk museum, / the silkworms crumpled themselves in baskets, / lazy and dazed in the spoils of mulberry.’

A poem by Sally Wen Mao.

Three Poems

Zaffar Kunial

‘In the blowy wet distance a yew, shivering.’

An excerpt from England’s Green by Zaffar Kunial.

Two Poems

James Conor Patterson

‘i think again, love, that t believe in this / would be t chapen the accident of our own gift’

Two poems from James Conor Patterson’s collection, bandit country.