Punch views images from the lead-lined room of hunched, misshaped bones. Punch dances round the room – head on a pole, chest iron-maiden bound with extra spikes, hips a claggy crucible, wooden knees. Mismatched red socks sneak past frozen feet, up past stiffened ankles. Punch plays St Sebastian. Punch is put to the rack —… Continue Reading ‘Punch Views His (A/S) Body’, by Phil Hawtin
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There is a snuffing out when the synapses stop firing. The ex-wives fade to black. His hawks blink. Extinguished. The Co-op, Jesus, trains and snow glimmer. Cut. Planets spin off the axons. Our kisses are ashes blown to the wind. He lies alone, like a great house with all it’s furniture moved out; windows smeared… Continue Reading ‘Stroke’ by Lizzie Heath
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She stands uncertainly inside the cubicle, exposed to light from a dozen UV tubes. Machinery hums softly, the seconds tick away. A narrow slit connects her to the outside world. Friends have seen her skin, inflamed and bleeding, her swollen eyelids. She hasn’t mentioned synapse pain, the 2am, 3am, 4am explosions waking her, holding… Continue Reading ‘PHOTOTHERAPY’, by Angi Holden
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It’s 2am and my body is on fire. Every cell is boiling. Sweat creeps from my pores. It only takes a moment to soak through my favourite t-shirt, then through the sheets and mattress covered in yellow imprints. I can’t get any fucking sleep. This happens to me every night, up to ten times. Then… Continue Reading ‘Premature Ovarian Failure’, by S. L. Shuter
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hospital gown a flap in the back lights flickering tra la la obsessive screaming sounds of machines dissolving matter situated between two beds rupture of bodies declared missing delivered in close up by Jane Joritz-Nakagawa Japan Jane Joritz-Nakagawa’s most recent book is Poems: New and Selected (Isobar, 2018) on sale at Amazon
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Our minds latch to narrative, it’s how we learn, remember, interpret. I went to hospital to have a baby, I should’ve returned more, not less. Subtracted: my ability to rise, walk, move; In my pelvis, broken bone. What is the premise? What is the character’s motivation? What is the hook? That feeling: ochre, electric, waist… Continue Reading ‘The hook’, by Sarah Sasson
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Four walls, Four walls and me, Four walls a fistful of pills and me, Silence Surrounded by silence, The silence that reminds me me myself and I. Except you, You’re never silent, The voice that never stops, The endless alarm that disturbs my slumber, You rattle round my brain in whispers and shouts until I… Continue Reading ‘Nobody’, by Wayne Roberts
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When the pain goes I half suppose my flesh marked, transformed. A growth of lichen, say, with its warm turmeric tint; a layer of cool, silvery fish-scales; traces of the glacial burn of chain-mail melting into skin. Best of all a delicate, graceful articulation of relief on the site of its worst excesses: once the… Continue Reading ‘Metamorphosis’, by Marion Michell
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When he was dying, I swallowed a CoCodamol before bedtime as if it were hot chocolate. I craftily attributed my zen-like calm in the face of helping Dad as he pissed blood into a plastic pot at 3am – I don’t know what’s happening to me, he said, again and again – to my sensible… Continue Reading ‘The Night Shift’, by Libby R.
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generate stay slow seal here by Sean Medium Belgium
‘Illuminating Irresolution’, by Sean Medium Read More »