While I was in Oxford I saw a flyer for an open mic poetry reading inside an old church. I decided to make sure I went, and I’m glad because after I shared a few pieces one of the locals (who read an awesome poem about Marmite) gave me a card to send my work to a literary magazine.
For anyone who reads at impromptu poetry gatherings, this is like the dream for someone to ask you to send your work somewhere.
Found out in December that the magazine, Cote Poets, accepted two of my poems: Be Willing to Bleed and Lady Legs.
Here they are again, so much love to Cote Poets for publishing them first!
Be Willing to Bleed
You’re seventeen,
and x-rays reveal
your heart pushing so forcefully through the skin of your upper bicep
that blood drips absent-mindedly from your sleeve.
This leaves you vulnerable to the wolves whose
stomachs pang at the scent of eager flesh
braised with innocence.
You need to keep this heart,
despite the canines upon canines
that will gnaw bite after bite.
Clamp, twist, rip, chew, swallow.
This is the only way to love,
but wound after reopened wound
will leave it hard to do.
Lady Legs
Places like these seem made for you.
I see your legs spinning pedals on your morning commute;
eyes ahead, but lips fixed around a cigarette.
Watching your stride, side by side with mine as we stroll the cafes and public houses;
in for a pound, in for a pint.
Eyes across the bar, touching under the table,
and after all that we’d hand-in-hand it back to the flat,
and I’d wrap those legs around my temples
to wear you not like a hat, but the crown jewel you are.
Word Slurpee 