Joan Fleming
'Coins, Glass, Nails, Pottery, Cinders', a new poem by Joan Fleming.
... (read more)For me, if a poem doesn’t originate in the body, in the gut, it’s usually a plotting of the forebrain, an attempt to ‘say something’, and should be ignored.
... (read more)When I scooped fists of never-garden dirt into the song-hole, / I never felt more able. // When these wrists start to ache without pause from the carrying, / why, I will wrap them in a bandage.
... (read more)Domestic Interior by Fiona Wright & The Tiny Museums by Carolyn Abbs
by Joan Fleming •
The blue painted wall and the blue painted pipe
with its throat jagged out
is the first thing I photograph ...