For those collectors of little magazines, poetry ephemera, and other curious anthologies, zines, and one-offs, there is something you need: Clinic Presents. I have rarely seen, if ever, such a beautifully-put-together collation of new daring poems by young (British) poets, and eccentric, indie photographs. It recalls the best of Matrix magazine, likely Canada's hippest alternative poetry-and-arts journal. With a Foreword by the excellent Jack Underwood (Faber New Poets 4), and poems by Gregory winners like Matthew Gregory, Sam Riviere, and Heather Phillipson, it also features poets I am glad to have read work by for the first time, like Rachael Allen, and Olly Todd. Check in.
A poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.
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