Tuesday, June 25, 2024

Tuesday poem #586 : Adam Beardsworth : Rift

 

 

When the black spine broke
the surface
a rift opened in the world.

Out fell the lance and flensing knife,
the harpoon, trailing leagues of hand line.
Out fell the catcher boats smashed to
kindling, fuel for the try pot furnace,
which fell out too, followed by
the first mate's shit-eating grin,
his bull whip in a rat's nest.
Bow-first a breaker heaved out the crippled
whaler, masts cracked by sodden sails, then
for a moment, silence

before a half-drowned howl spat out the
captain feet first.
          He belched and out came the spy glass.
          He belched the compass and map.
          He belched again so wide this time
          his jaw unhinged.
                               Out swam the
          whale, smiling.

 

 

 

 

Adam Beardsworth is the author of No Place Like (Gaspereau, 2023) and the critical book Confessional Poetry in the Cold War: The Poetics of Doublespeak. He is the editor of Horseshoe Literary Magazine, and the founder/organizer of the Horseshoe Literary Festival. He teaches literature at Memorial University’s Grenfell Campus in Corner Brook, Newfoundland and Labrador.

The Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

 

Tuesday, June 18, 2024

Tuesday poem #585 : Megan Nichols : The Object

 

 

It seems obvious now: the handles
aren’t attached to the cups the day
they are thrown. They are made
separately from the vessel and left
to dry, though not completely.

When the handles and cups are
leatherhard, you score them
in a frantic crosshatch then mix
water into clay, which makes slip,
to use as glue. The newly joined
are left again to dry, then fired,
then glazed, then fired once more.

In the end, you cannot imagine
the mug having ever existed
in any other way. The object
is fluid; the handle is a swan’s
neck, curving downward
to drink from its own reflection.

 

 

 

Megan Nichols is the author of the chapbook Animal Unfit (Belle Point Press, 2023). Her poems have appeared in Iron Horse Literary Review, The Threepenny Review, Frontier Poetry and elsewhere. She hosts the podcast What We Aim To Do.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, June 11, 2024

Tuesday poem #584 : Nicholas Bradley : Eighteen Counts

 

 

Murder of crows, manslaughter of goshawks,
credit-card fraud of emperor penguins.

Embezzlement of toucans, vehicular
homicide
of lorikeets, abduction

of skuas. Hit-and-run of macaws.
Treason of glaucous-winged gulls, hoax

regarding terrorist activity of pigeons,
seditious conspiracy of rails. Piracy

of boreal owls, destruction of property
of snipes, impaired driving of woodpeckers.

Forcible entry of cormorants, weapons
trafficking of cranes, contempt of court

of chickadees. A criminal negligence
of hummingbirds. An arson of terns.

 

 

 

Nicholas Bradley is the author of two books of poetry: Rain Shadow (University of Alberta Press, 2018) and Before Combustion (Gaspereau Press, 2023). His poems have appeared in a number of journals and anthologies, including Best Canadian Poetry 2024. He lives in Victoria, BC – in lək̓ʷəŋən territory.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan