MARIA DUARTE, FIONA O’CONNOR and ANDY HEDGECOCK review Savage House, Enzo, Madfabulous, and Erupcja
After Lorca’s Lament
Isabel Palmer
Manchester 22nd May 2017
We cannot bear to see it.
There are no words to shape it,
no tide to smooth the pebbles
of the night and drag them out to sea,
no lilies to wreathe it,
no scraps of moon to swab
the throbbing vein of blues and twos.
There is no colour to paint it
on stained-glass windows bright
as playing cards.
There is no gulp to grieve it,
no memory to marble it,
to tap you on the shoulder,
show you photographs, Here this and Here,
no last balloon-drop to stop them leaving
when they did or lift them clear,
like the boy in Disney’s ‘Up’,
stranded on the porch
when the house took off.
ALAN MORRISON recommends a consummate, heart-warming collection about a working-class upbringing in the industrial north-east
ANDY CROFT welcomes the publication of an anthology of recent poems published by the Morning Star, and hopes it becomes an annual event
RUTH AYLETT reviews two collections of outright political poetry
by Widad Nabi


