by Martyn Crucefix | Mar 17, 2025 | Young Poets
Pynchon Paranoia & Prose (Comp) As I watch the rainbow disappear through four collapsing windows The apartments fold algorithmically Apocalyptic origami Looking straight up at the sky Like a period on paper A doll gazing from her bedroom A die spinning on its nose...
by Martyn Crucefix | Mar 1, 2025 | Young Poets
Moving On The last plate broke today. It was nothing special. Cheap, temporary junk that fills a flat, a home, a life. I’ve always had a fear of losing things before their time. I kept every card she wrote even as her handwriting deteriorated and she could no longer...
by Martyn Crucefix | Feb 14, 2025 | Young Poets
love poem you want a love poem? (“yeah,” you say, confidently).okay, I’ll give you a love poem.I love –(wind crackles in the trees, the light bulbs flicker,paint continues its residence under my fingernails.time stops, but only for a second.)– well actually, the point...
by Martyn Crucefix | Jan 20, 2025 | Young Poets
depth charge and surfacing home has become like a submarine and I know you’re waiting for an answer, but I can’t stop obsessing over how these four walls might be the only thing between me and fifty fathoms of crushing – you’ll tell me to breathe, help me...
by Martyn Crucefix | Jan 3, 2025 | Young Poets
Dog Days Your lips make a clicking sound as you pull them across your teeth. You tune your flesh towards visitation: your joints labour over their arrangement; a plane of light swells shoulders, surface for eating. Strung out across several summers, we suffer for our...
by Martyn Crucefix | Dec 20, 2024 | Young Poets
Burial We buried his guns in the garden a year after he’d been burnt in his best jumper. Rifles and a double-eyed shotgun, sawn barrel, heavy cartridge, no licence. A stock that lay cold against the heat of his cheek, felt the misting of his breath. A trigger that...
