Metamorphosis ll, by M.C. Escher (Netherlands) 1939-1940

a rabbit sneaks over my windowsill
spills oblong light across the floor viscous
as cream      curdles in a snarl
of salamanders fluorescent on the walls
that bloat      bulge      suppurate      burst
the air hums bees      in my hair crawl over my skin
i grope for some hold-fast but corners 
collapse      light and shadow striate 
fish swim with the waves      against 
the waves      darkness lifts 
where the ceiling used to be      
a shriek of gulls      flecks on cloud     
not bombs or planes but birds 
the colour of blood      spills 
on to rooftops and moon-shadowed 
stairs to nowhere      war 
a game played without rules      
pieces drift in liquid 
light      teeter at a precipice
floor dissolves 
in darkness      i cling 
to an edge while all night 
long an unembodied voice 
detonates the news    
                                       In dawn’s faint light
I construct lines, squares, rhomboids, hexagons,
to plaster absent walls with tessellations.

Tessellations’ first appeared in The Ekphrastic Review on 30 March 2020


   sliding sun

    wavers a path 

across the sea

    which way does the tide pull?

ripples      on wet sand


          through your    


shimmer it back      not quite 




                    your ankles     

draws you 


                                the calling waves

I want to fold my hands around you

cradle you in my cupped palms 

past sea holly and marram grass 

to the shelter of the trees 

abide with you on sweet-scented earth


            a dove is calling

‘Limen’ first appeared in The Amethyst Review on 28th March 2020

Review: Ode to Numbers by Sarah Glaz.

In her poem ‘A Woman in Love’, the mathematician and poet Sarah Glaz describes herself as seeing ‘a streak of mathematics/ in almost everything’. The title of her collection of mathematical poetry, Ode to Numbers, is taken from a poem by the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda which invokes the passion of mathematical curiosity, the urge to understand the mysteries of the universe in quantified terms, the desire ‘to know/ how many/ stars in the sky’(Neruda, 1999).  

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Review: Smoke that Thunders by Eveline Pye

Mosi-oa-Tunya – the Smoke that Thunders, also known as the Victoria Falls – straddles the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe. From its broad, smooth-flowing course across a flat basalt plain the Zambezi river suddenly plummets down a fissure in the rock, foaming and churning into the narrow gorge over a hundred metres below. I remember visiting in my childhood: the roar of water, the arc of rainbows in the drenching spray, the smell of wet vegetation, the unprotected edge.

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