This week, a poem by Penny Newell.

 

It breaks like

 

It breaks like foot-weary twigs
bent beyond the point of resistance

breaks like the sensation of studying stars
telescopic insignificance

breaks across the table, underneath me
across my legs my knees my thighs raw

ankles raw also it breaks on the windows
where it lashes at their sills

breaks tubular on the hour
every hour from this hour going forwards

and backwards forwards and backwards
in creases of time it breaks like

sweated grease and hair-pasted sleeves
like a radio phasing in like a bird

circling a carcass eyeing up the heart
a fizz, like a record about to start

——

PENNY NEWELL has a PhD from King’s College London. Her poems have featured in Hobart, Magma, The Portland Review, The Southampton Review, 3:AM, Connotation Press, and The Emma Press Anthology of Love (Emma Press), amongst others. Penny is a commissioned writer for Lakes Ignite 2018 and a Reader at Frontier Poetry.



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