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Index: Poetry & Fiction

Five poems by Emily Critchley.

Emily Critchley: ‘Remembering to remember. Remember to pass beyond you into the us
In the winged shadow, the space you will never know.
Taking me from myself, in the path
Which the blind birth of the day has consigned me to.’

Two new poems by Carol Rumens.

Carol Rumens: ‘From Mametz Wood and Loos,/mouths blaze with rhyme, but when/Demos sifts the chaos,/we watch how class writes men,/in every stripe of pen.’

Two new poems by Carola Luther.

. . 1. Birthday in Emily Court   Hip hip Noreen, hip hip… ♦ Now we have sung, and made our toasts with pop and beer through the leaves, through the window, light like water we gather round tables with friends and strangers, making time for the old folk, letting small-talk darn us in for […]

The Attendant.

Nigel Ford: ‘They arrive here, moth-eaten winter crows, dipping and croaking, bending and creaking, they grasp the deck chairs with knowing hands and place them where they will. Their knowledge and expertise transform them into a grace of ravens. They have grown above their souls.’


Alan Wall: ‘How reconcile the holy text of Genesis with modern cosmology, which we now know to be true? Hebrew scripture being canonical. Well, God makes everything in six days before signing off for the Sabbath. But look hard at the words.’

The Adjunct.

James Gallant: ‘Aurora’s had persisted in her “crummy profession” partially because her MFA from Iowa prepared her for little else; but she also really liked teaching. She had hoped early on that adjunct teaching would lead to a more permanent, stable situation, but that hope was long gone. ‘

A Diatribe.

Anthony Howell: ‘Aren’t you as dismayed about the growth of our arms trade
and how it’s all been done before
or has already been made?’

The Wise Child.

Laura Potts was a BBC New Voice for 2017. Her first BBC radio drama was ‘Sweet The Mourning Dew’ and aired at Christmas 2017, and she received a commendation from The Poetry Society in 2018.


Martin Thom: ‘The Arms Fair prospers yet, and Rudd
Has curtained off a mire of blood
Which the Few, the Good, the Great
In ermine gowns may contemplate.’

Men with women.

Michael Buckingham Gray: ‘The phone rings. He lets out a sigh and does not move. Recalls his wife saying she did not want anything drawn out. Studies the rug on the floor. Notices the elephants.’

Seven sonnets.

Keith Hutson: ‘Chaplin called movement liberated thought.
No words required. Action is all. But what
if you distil a lifetime’s liveliness –…’

‘The man who turned to paper’ — and three more new poems.

Simon Perril: ‘There are worse things
than the tumble of gravel/seeping down the tunnel
of the inner ear.’

Two poems from ‘Hushings’.

Peter Riley; ‘These spectres are no more than thoughts
but they are international. So I go to
the International Restaurant in Bradford’

Two poems from ‘Pennine Tales’.

Peter Riley: ‘To arrive, to stay, to become old, to learn
the details, the stone paths strung over the hills,
the football record, when the goods trains pass through.’

Five new poems.

Judith Willson: ‘Fragile as old film, the miners whistle their names’ thin tunes –
John Newton, Cageman. Tom Evans, Shaftman – lines of them
rising from the archives, red dust on their backs. ‘