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Index: Poetry & Fiction

Ice cream spoon in the office.

Fawzia Kane: ‘Mouse marks his Deafness with insouciance. He likes to play the bass. The low frequencies thump through his belly, and can penetrate brick walls. Mouse’s eyes are glacial blue, but will never see a glacier. He doesn’t like the idea of retreat.  Mouse saw his parents die though their bodies still moved.’

Some of her things.

By JOHN MATTHIAS. . I WAS STANDING in the middle of a river. In waist high water and afraid that I would lose my footing and be swept downstream where the river is deep enough to drown in. What I had to do was difficult. My job was to sort things in a giant case […]

Four poems.

J. Mark Smith: ‘They’ll sit in the dark on basement floors,
signallers in a dry signal-house.
Gibbon, reluctant to judge it a
decline, leaves his club.’

The Right Side of the Diamond.

Peter Knobler: ‘Matt was a stalwart in a continuing pickup game with a fifty-year history and a rotating roster of regulars on Fire Island, a barrier beach about a quarter-mile wide that lay a quick ferry ride due south of mainland Long Island. No cars were permitted on the Fire Island National Seashore; the major means of transportation was bicycle.’

From ‘Ricochet’.

Lila Matsumoto: ‘There is a woman I am familiar with from childhood. She wears her hair in a bun. She is wearing clothes that are allowed to get soiled, because no doubt she is the cook of the household, and the cleaner too. I see her in the house, late at night. She is sitting on the ground; her back is turned….’

‘Something’ and two more prose poems.

Mélisande Fitzsimons: ‘Pain steals dreams and memories. Feathers make me thirsty, and I want to lick the puddle the prince left behind after the storm tonight. In the silence of sleep, everything becomes sacred, but there is nothing white about the night.’

Messages of Bewilderment.

Tom Lowenstein: ‘But I’m pure and whole, aren’t I,
she submitted with childlike sincerity,
nor do I house material of any nature in my subconscious.’

‘The Love of Women’…

Atar Hadari: ‘And your daughters run between clouds
gathering leaves like plums
and make a chariot to ride to your
bed
with the horse you’ll see one
morning through closed blinds.’

What Clings: Three prose poems.

Mikki Aronoff: You feel the press of his spindly arms, the carved bone buttons on his woolly jacket, his pocket watch.’

Four new poems.

Johanna Higgins” ‘Not only the coolness of breath,
But the fluid fall of sleep now
Lies uneven against the mist.
That was a look, a gentle movement.’

‘Just’ and two more prose poems.

Giles Goodland: ‘ther spirits came and spread paper jams whilst the other who was of a solar nature shared in light. They slowly approached each other, vibrating their antennae finely and alternately. The Bone spirit flowed from one nostril, while the other was blocked. I filled every other glass with water.’

High Street report.

Ian Seed: ‘I recognised the voice of the famous poet P. He was complaining about the paparazzi who kept bothering him whenever he stepped outside the building where he lived on King’s Street, Chelsea.’

Two Old Judges Stuck All Night in the Lift.

John Matthias: ‘Stewart and Zimmerman were from Cincinnati and Cleveland respectively. For that reason, they stayed in Columbus from Monday night to Friday night, pulling out a foldup beds in their offices. There they would sleep, following dinners at two separate downtown restaurants. They never ate dinner together. ‘

Homage to Lorand Gaspar.

Peter Riley: ‘Someone lights a match, before dawn, a fisherman sets out in his small boat on the striated meniscus of deep blue ink, an unexpected dawn wind sweeps over the stone fields raising a cloud of pale dust in which a voice thinks: “The thunder” (the fire, the strife, the  Logos) “echoes everything”.’

Episode 38 of ‘Living Dead’ and two more poems.

By SIMON COLLINGS. . Episode 38: Living dead ‘I’M A NOBODY’ Bill says to Frank. ‘What have I accomplished? Precisely nothing. When I’m dead, I’ll disappear without trace.’ ‘Two caramel lattes,’ Frank says to the barista. ‘When I was a kid,’ Bill continues, ‘I used to think I’d be somebody one day, someone people would […]