The Wisdom of Solomon
Solomon King lay on the hem of the ocean, the sea tickling his toes. He watched his father with his giant flask of popcorn, his wife with her billowing cornetto hair, and his children, Posy, Mabel, Greta and Sidney paddling in the shallows and he wondered to himself how he got here and where he was going. The moon turned and the waves pulled back to reveal a little man in a pink wetsuit burrowing into the sand. ‘He must have been here all the time’, thought Solomon. ‘I need to ask him what he wants.’
By Alan McCormick & Jonny Voss.
The Herbals
Insist the marshes, the herbals.
Static blends.
Blue is righteous accident.
Pastel turns
and we unfold like
an aircraft hangar
in a field of gold
translucent rape.
My name is Simon.
I am your train guard, your
personal shopper.
Hardware
flocks. Green
beyond limits. Cartilage
locks a vista —
By Tom Chivers.