Listen to Miriam Culy read her poems.
Red crosses sit on most of the chairs,
in a waiting room where no one else is
waiting. I sanitise my pre-washed hands,
nervously, before you call me through:
come in / sit down / how can I help you?
I can sense that you are smiling at me:
though I can’t peer through your mask,
I can see it in your friendly blue eyes,
the only facial feature not hidden /
covered / protected by PPE.… Read more “Poetry by Miriam Culy”
Listen to Marianne Peel read “Quarantine Day 15.”
When my mind won’t settle in for the night
we play this game:
Tell me three good things,
I implore my lover.
I took a good shower, he tells me.
And then silence.
I didn’t have a meltdown today, I tell him.… Read more ““Quarantine Day 15” by Marianne Peel”
Listen to M.A. Hoak read “her crown in glory.”
her crown in glory
they had my grandmother’s funeral
on a steamy sunday in august
(she’d died in may
but, given the virus,
they’d all been forced to wait)
i do not know if they wore masks
or if they stood six feet apart
i cannot tell you which hymns were sung—
which flowers they laid on her grave
(i hope they were purple; her favorite color)
what else is there to say?… Read more ““her crown in glory” by M.A. Hoak”