share


Prism

 

Board trustees tapped heirloom spoons against the graduates’
wet green skulls to get at the yolk. Academics, in chorus,
drilled and blew until we were bright       and
airy,       ready for democracy.       Cheeks inflated like bubonic plague,
foreheads stretched like      drumskin, rainbowed
like wounds, skin  whining, funny helium voices.
I watched the best essayists of my generation float
over the Amazon       rainforest and burning       California
to drink the sun from the sky,    bite and chew and beat its yellow,
so they came back to us     rigged, rainless sierras.
Each time we fell to the ground like flies under an educative glass,
never realising: some skies have a limit, and this is ours.


ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR

is a writer and visual artist from Wales and elsewhere. Her work has appeared in bath magg, LUMIN and The Good Journal, among others. Her short story ‘Deep Heart’ won the Guardian 4th Estate BAME Short Story Prize in 2019. She lives and loves in South London.

READ NEXT

fiction

July 2012

Whatever Happened To Harold Absalon?

Simon Okotie

fiction

July 2012

1. The hotel lobby was both cleansed and fragrant, as was the receptionist speaking softly on the phone behind...

fiction

January 2014

Leg over Leg

Ahmad Fāris al-Shidyāq

TR. Humphrey Davies

fiction

January 2014

First published in 1855, Leg over Leg recounts the life, from birth to middle age, of ‘the Fāriyāq,’ alter ego of...

Interview

October 2013

Interview with Nick Goss

James Cahill

Interview

October 2013

Nick Goss has emerged in recent years as one of the UK’s most feted young painters. Evoking indistinct places...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required