Issue 23
The Manchester Review

Editorial

The last thing many of us want to do right now is spend even more time looking at a screen, but our reading of new work for this issue of The Manchester Review reminded us again and again that poems, essays and fiction can transport you or suddenly refract your immediate environs into a charged […]

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Éamon Little

Poillíneascannaí & The Junction

  Trí báis atá ƒerr bethaid: bás iach, bás muicce méithe, bás foglada. Three deaths better than life: the death of a salmon, the death of a fat pig and the death of a robber.                                           […]

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Mícheál McCann

2 Poems

Late Blight The field had spent years drinking rain and pills. Received infusions, dialysis, pesticide repair. Creeslough breathed again! Its scarred mouth opening, sleep-heavy. The field is threaded through for the new harvest, overwintered. The lambs, cloud-woollen, bounce over orange soil to find a new water, frost-hardy. Some were quick-footed. Some came back later, others […]

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Maryam Hessavi

3 Poems

All Blue Things I was once a chicken heart; small, singing down the river I was once a standing bear; twi -light claws; rainbow salmon scales I was once an aging man; sat, watching them deliver Our whole universe; dark, backed into the soil And one time when an old skin had rotted blue on […]

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Josephine Galvin

Going Downhill

‘Town please’, Lisa offered her five-pound note to the bus driver. He didn’t meet her eye; they didn’t tend to anymore, except possibly to question why this professional-looking woman in her smart red coat and leather gloves used public transport so repeatedly. Not that long ago a couple of familiar drivers would let her off […]

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Jeffrey Wainwright

2 Poems

Disillusionment rain glints on the copper beech standard cirrus motionless above   that will do – the poem has been here or hereabouts many times and what does it do with its words? where does it take us to?   are these rain glints the very ones I think I saw?   disillusionment can fall […]

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Marion McCready

2 Poems

Glasgow Nights The city falls in bursts of light around me. I am falling too. Life in the shape of cars float across the Kingston Bridge. Inside each car, the drivers daydream. Hand on wheel, foot on pedal, driving into the sky; faces calm as mannequins. The bridge simply carries them. She is obedient and […]

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Patrick Joyce

Going to my father’s house: a history of my times

 Chapter 9, Passages: Industrial Jerusalem                                             the cotton clouds, those white ones                                             into which without a word the breath                                             of legions of human beings had been absorbed.                                                                           W. G. Sebald, After Nature                     Map 1, Ordnance Survey map, Gorton, Lancs ,CW12,1935      Lines. In this Ordnance […]

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Andrew Kerr

The Castleford Sutra

  The Castleford Sutra “is it not delightful to have a friend come from afar?” Confucius I. Descent My Lord the Bodhisattva Mahasattva looks down as the obese and diabetic roll along Methley Place on mobility scooters, considers descent, whose aid, if any, he might enlist, his own fallibility. Dawn but no sunrise. Chris Stanton […]

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The Manchester Review

Three Ethiopian Contemporary Women Poets

Three contemporary Ethiopian women poets from the first ever anthology of Ethiopian Amharic poetry, Songs We Learn from Trees, just published by Carcanet Press KEBEDECH TEKLEAB Cotton-life This era of exile winds its spindle of raw cotton before the seed is removed and life bursts out, before the cotton is combed, before it is roved and […]

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Adam Wyeth

Adam Wyeth Interview with Colette Bryce

I corresponded with Colette in the summer and autumn months of 2018, amid the publication of her Selected Poems. She was based in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne at the time, and our emails covered many of the highlights from her distinguished publishing career. Bryce is Derry-born and was a recipient of the Eric Gregory Award. Her poetry has […]

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Natasha Kerry Smith

Waiting for Liz’s Honda

  His wife’s hospital room was calm now, and the visitors knew not to visit. Not yet, anyway. He turned to face Greta’s bed. The fresh daffodils he’d put in the vase a few days prior had started to wilt, and the speckled petals looked a lot like her papery skin. The white walls had […]

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Rowland Bagnall

2 Poems

Outtakes The world occurs to me. I feel my way into the space and cooling air outside, leaving behind an article about the bridge collapse in Genoa, a city I once visited, the sun, now (relatively speaking) level with the upstairs windows, setting, slumping down and to the right, which seems completely insignificant. I destroy […]

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Natalie Crick

2 Poems

Cut the lovely fairies in Sister’s room have blades on their backs and lately Lee sucks lemons for their sharps looks for wounds in snow on his morning walk with Mam fantasizes he is sliced like a pear but today the blood smells real he wipes his hands on his trackies dizzy tries to walk […]

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Iain Twiddy

3 Poems

Change It felt a bit like approaching the king in the counting house we had sung about, the frown amidst the glowers of gold-tipped smoke at the hesitant Ten 2ps please, said again as the music fizzed and throbbed and the lights thrilled in their circuits. After the glance down at the tendered coin, judged […]

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Eve Esfandiari-Denney

2 Poems

Omnivore It was prior to the silent parts of your body becoming noticeable you were regenerating heat and skin as one bird lifted on the Lower Zab river,                                                       […]

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Rosie Garland

As a child you had a recurring dream where you took our feet off the ground and flew

  All night, I keep watch; breathe in on his outbreath, drawing his air into my body. He stares blankly, focussed on a point above our heads. I stroke his ear, but he doesn’t react. Maybe he sleeps with his eyes open. All of them, including the hundreds in his wings. I pad to the […]

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Martin Dyar

A Merlin in the Sheeffrys

  A Merlin in the Sheeffrys There is a feeling that is equal to the land, a sense of self that is the journey’s length. It changes, bright to dark, and back again, in moments such as when a hill decides to vanish, prompting the sea to appear, sun-thatched, sun-pregnant, sun-remonstrating, before another bog-dividing mile […]

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Chris Cusack

The Glummest Rook

The Glummest Rook Chris Cusack i. In June 2013, I spent a miserable four weeks as a visiting scholar in Maynooth, Ireland. In an academic sense, it was pretty great, but I was quite severely depressed, even if I still didn’t want to admit it. This was my second stint at the college, after six […]

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Jamie McKendrick

Naming Names: Ideas of Address in Catullus and Others

                                                                We are poor passing facts                                     […]

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Tania Hershman

Field Studies

  When, after the guns, the gas, the bodies and the blood, they ask the earth, the earth says it doesn’t understand. The earth has trouble speaking, coughs and chokes. When they return later, the earth refuses to answer anything. They look for birds but the birds are gone. They wait for squirrels, they watch […]

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Evan Jones

3 C.P. Cavafy Translations

The Bandage He said that he’d stumbled into a wall or fallen. But likely the cut on his shoulder was caused by something more serious. He stood up abruptly, reaching for some photographs on a high shelf that he wanted to hold. The bandage loosened and the cut opened. I dressed his shoulder again, but […]

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Bogusia Wardein

2 Poems

Matchbox          Today I meet her for the first time: a brunette, unlike my mother. She shows me Father’s wallet photos of him dressed as a pirate lets me smell his coat hanging in the hall. She clasps a small black bundle to her heart then hands it to me, a crumpled plastic bag […]

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Jodie Hollander

2 Poems

Cello Case After her cello was sold, her bows all given away, little remained of my Mother except  for her cello case— That large brown case was almost the shape of a person, though it was only a shell, hard, expressionless, and always a little forbidding sitting in our living room. It was the thing […]

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Julie Morrissy

Messages

  Messages back under the mountain nourish myself / hunter-gatherer she’ll be coming round Mont-Royal                                                when she comes                             […]

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