Two Poems by John Porter

A creature 

In the hole
you pass me bones
we put them together
this skull
maybe goat
fits onto the rib cage
of a tiger
we heft ostrich legs
and eagle claws
feeling a creature into being
its shape sharing frozen darkness
you say it needs a heart
and pass me yours
still warm and beating.

A new home 

As concrete poured
I saw a glint
the sun on gold teeth
in a skull
slipping to the guts
of foundations.
What’s the hold up?
yelled the foreman
I panicked
finished the job
but now am drawn
back to the one house
not sold
to sit
in fold out chair
whisper I’m sorry
to the astroturf
which glows back
it’s ok
I like it here
I’m going to stay.


After living in Moscow and London, John Porter is now in Gloucestershire. He has degrees in Russian and Law and when not juggling his two small sons he writes poems, usually on trains. His work had appeared in publications including The Stinging Fly, Prole and Strix.

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