Poems
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Dust
By Anna Spargo-RyanThere is no water.
Outside the ground is dust.
A man takes the animals to another red-and-grey plot.
He watches their fleece rot. He watches the flies come. -
Slavery
By PiO (π.ο.)40 million people worldwide in 2019 were subjected to
some kind of slavery, 61% of them were used in forced labor
25% of them children (mostly in the private sector), and
38% of them in forced marriages. -
Submission
By Peter GoldsworthyI accepted my first rejection slip
humbly. I took the next on the chin,
if with gritted teeth. The third
I balled, and threw four periods -
Current
By Kathryn Gledhill-Tuckerour electricity is action at a distance
a small bright whiteness
vibrating at a tight wavelength
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Empires of Mind
By Sarah Holland-BattBeside the fountain’s troupe of sun-bleached rubber ducks,
in the gardens, under a shade sail,
my father is crying about Winston Churchill.
Midway through a lunch of cremated schnitzel -
TikTok Dance
By Maxine Beneba ClarkeDab, dab, shuffle, slide,
left, right, left.
Shuffle, slide, dab, dab,
twirl, kick, step. -
We’re processing your direct debit
By Dan HoganThat's you in bokeh, hands leaking over a rail. It’s coldest in high
definition, loudest in standard. Trumpet like a mop along linoleum
before it’s too late (in 4K). Ice-cream didn’t do this. Ice-cream never
does anything. Stumble on the buff tree root lifting a segment -
Floorboards
By Evie WyldThe dog’s foot scratches on the wood
that the men put in
clay pipes in mouths,
their moustaches and hats. -
Found object
By Thuy OnI want someone I can turn into art
splice him into shapes
assemble him again:
slightly askew -
That Type of Blak Love
By Luke Currie-RichardsonI want that type of blak love
first foot on your traditional country
you just know
you belong -
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'One final word on the Christmas Island pipistrelle.
By Laura Jean McKayMarch. Zipped wings
your overnight bag.
No sonar nets -
Denim
By Rohan C. KingIn a surgical cut to the heart of an op-shop, it finds me:
muted blues of a spring noon, its salt-scuffed
wash of wave-noise rolling from cuff
to elbow shoals—a great shroud -
How to say goodbye
By Mary Anne ButlerPut the dog in the car just before sunset
pack her bowl and water
a bottle of bubbles
a champagne flute. -
Silent Verse
By Walter KadikiIn a land foreign
Here I stand
The uneasiness
And nervousness -
River
By Hope One- Matehaere Hope Haami
I am the river, the river is me,
Ko au te awa, ko te awa ko au -
Glad wrap is death and everything is on fire
By Laurie MayI don't know how to write anymore
I don't write anymore
I'm not sure if writing has become a luxury
Falling wayside to practical things -
Cat Food
By Krissy KeenOn the plane
I wrote a poem titled
The Generosity of Flesh.
It had a line about my armpit -
Context in a Broken Duplex
By Omar Sakr“Tensions are escalating”. “Mow the grass down.”
Stretch past pain to find poetry, the way home.
Pen the past to find home. Write even the rain.
