Terry Jones, lives and works in Carlisle; won 1st prize in the Bridport international poetry competition in 2011, the same year his extended pamphlet, Furious Resonance , was published by Poetry Salzburg (available from there). His poems have appeared journals, magazines, anthologies, and online, including in The New Statesman, Poetry Review, Wasafiri, Iota, The North, The London Magazine, Magma, Agenda, Ambit, The Interpreters House, The Morning Star, Envoi, The Frogmore Papers, The ShoP, New Welsh Review, Planet, The Rialto, Under the Radar, Brittle Star etc.
Spuds As loved ones buried grow nails and hair past recognition, a fistful of peelings thrown slovenly to earth came back in Spring, leaving me to finger, stunned as Crusoe, a row of cold knuckles. One, forgotten in the cellar, turned pure alone and grew a halo of white hair; another, missed in the sack, was lifted out the shrunken head of Medusa. When I kick the bucket, bury me with spuds, a sackful, that I may spread and come in a cloud of white to your door.
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Collecting Bins at Emily Bronte’s (07/12/2017)
Lovers By the Ice-Age Tarn (03/12/2017)
Moth-Print Spring (02/12/2017)
power company (01/12/2017)
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