New British Poetry: An Anthology
Spring 1987
Naming the Flowers
makes no difference to the flowers. These inside out parasols, orb webs on crooked needles, gray filmy cups in the clockwork of summer goatsbeard are to themselves not "seeds," not […]
New British Poetry: An Anthology
Spring 1987
Jarrow¹
Would want to paint them, those town-bright boys at the dead end of the track where it coils down away from church and mound leaving almost an island, as it […]