Poem of the day

Brooch

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

13 June

The Night Dropped the Stars from the Sky

by Ak Welsapar

12 June

from Still Life with Loops

by Eli Tolaretxipi

11 June

I am losing weight and it is your fault

by Clare Pollard

I’d call you Judas, but it’s a cliche,

And not even appropriate -

 

I was always the disciple,

Flesh-weak, forgiven and following,

And to hear you sneer at me was like...

 

Finding a maggot squirming,

A discovered liar,

At the core of my wet amber fruit;

 

Or the time I discovered that at Versailles,

In the fondant rooms,

Beside the taut marble and unnecessary gold,

Aristocrats would squat on the staircases

And piss.

 

It was like finding out that your lover

Is taking Imodium.

 

Don’t you know that since the day you laughed at me,

I haven’t been able to so much as look

At a nectarine, fig biscuits or anything French?

 

And bread?

Tasting that is like kissing you.

I heave.