Poem of the day

'The poet's function'

by Paul Peter Piech

19 June

Nárciz's telephone call in leapmouth

by Ágnes Lehóczky

18 June

'Lovely the woods', from In the valley of the Elwy

by Paul Peter Piech

17 June


by Yuko Minamikawa Adams

She received a brooch from a boyfriend. 

She smiled, and promised to always wear it. 

After he left, she went to her bedroom, 

looked herself in the mirror, 

then swallowed the brooch. 

Silver bubbles tingled her throat and landed on her heart. 

Her heart is made of purple velvet, 

decorated with jewellery. 

When her heart beats, 

shadows of silver blink in her breast.


16 June

from When I Say I Believe Women

by Emily Critchley

When I say I believe women & men read & write 

differently I mean that women & men read & write pretty 

differently. Whether this is biologically 'essential' or just 

straightforward like when you left the toaster burning or 

because women have a subordinated relationship to 

power in their guts I don't know. Is this clear enough for 

you to follow. I don't know. When I say we should try 

not to forget the author, this is because that would be bad 

manners as well as ridiculous. When I say there is a 

centre into which exclusion bends I mean nothing. When 

I hear you ask how much money did you get or how far 

have you got into your work, something internal plunges 

for the exit, like puking, it wants to get out—because 

you're still being hostile (after all these years)—& look 

toward the charcoaled meats for rescue. There they are 

still on fire. 


15 June

Let my husband know

by Maya Sarishvili

14 June

'As the morning glory today'

by Paul Peter Piech