by Martyn Crucefix | Feb 13, 2026 | Young Poets
The Disease Womanhood and all the iron teethOf its hairbrush.Womanhood a disease;Hot tumors growing under the taut skin and call attention andCraving pretty sheep coats instead of our own leathery and hair prickled skinNo matter its upright disposition.Running hands...
by Martyn Crucefix | Dec 16, 2025 | Young Poets
the country breaks, but only in one direction my mother says never leave your chopsticks standing in rice,says it looks too much like incense for the dead. (i press my hands together & pray...
by Martyn Crucefix | Dec 1, 2025 | Young Poets
Notes on a Harvest I. I am not the child you wanted. I am the seed and the apple too. the call and the response. your baby ...
by Martyn Crucefix | Nov 17, 2025 | Young Poets
play me like a piano squiggly hooked linescrawl across the yellowed,crumpled sheets like hesitantfingers on out-of-tune keys,forming and deforming wordsof a language neither of usspeaks there is a little hiding spotbetween the G and the G sharp,the singular subspace...
by Martyn Crucefix | Nov 4, 2025 | Young Poets
On Faith A sudden want of it this morning,preceding coffee, shouldersto stretch my right arm over.It disturbs me.Artificial coloring disturbs me. Rattle of heating pipesstraining to keep me content disturbs me. Baby talkdisturbs me. Pharmaceutical advertising ending...
by Martyn Crucefix | Sep 29, 2025 | Young Poets
Memoria Pappy bundles me into Coat scarf hat gloves winter boots Mummy doesn’t like me wearing those Pappy’s good lady friend got me them All white and brown, I’m a plump Christmas pudding Ready for eating A steaming dumpling An egg on legs! Come on come on Pappy says...
