Jackson

with      I don’t know how      to talk to you my clothes on First published in foam:e Read more

I dreamed I had a stillborn baby and it was a baby girl but she was just a lump of flesh really and my mother had organised her into a box with an address label something like To Death 15 Death Avenue Somewhere First published in foam:e Read more

as he talks he blinks the eyelashes touch the soft slope above the cheekbone and yet again —oh not again!— i’m lava from womb to larynx An earlier version of this poem was published in Poetry for Public Transport Read more