One of our favourite tunes of the year is now accompanied by some words from one of our favourite poets of all time. Deep joy.
On this, National Poetry Day, feast your eyes on a new number from Caught by the River Poet-in-Residence Will Burns: It was February and in late snow I turned from the river towards the hills where, along the ridgetop, the fir tips tore themselves into the vapourish sky. I walked where I thought I remembered […]
I could forget it all on evenings like this– your names, addresses, even our relations. Everything could be taken from me by the lights of the city in this kind of weather. The process has something to do with the buildings, but there is also the matter of all the people. How many there are… […]
My mother’s last days were the end of a winter that had become only rolling blackout into blackout— a time I had no hold on. All news held a kind of dread but ours, when it came, felt like coming to. A dimness in an old room, a sense of certain things in absence. Two […]
Like the banks we valued ourselves only as a future, neglected to peg anything to the day that was coeval with our action— the true day that crops up as a raid on memory. How long do you suppose we measured familial intake in rows of poplar trees (as our borders), the length of hands […]