This is not for you.
The Children’s Story
The Tree reading in the street: ‘The Frome children, who all even the boys bore the names of flowers, were making a trifle …
Two Poems
Those spacious months when we lived
continents apart, pens were back in,
our letters made days more bearable.
A Season in Paradise
I find him in Empangeni. My father lies on his back at the edge of the sugar-cane valley, one arm under his head, the other flung out, fingers plaiting scrub and yellow weed flowers.
The Traffic Noir
The films were usually shown, where I grew up, in school libraries during the normal run of the school day …
End of Watch (2012), dir. David Ayer, reviewed by Janet Rogerson
by Janet Rogerson
Laura Ellen Joyce, The Museum of Atheism (Salt Publishing), reviewed by Alex Johnson
by Alec Johnson
MR9 Editorial
As we move to this newly designed site, we are keen to maintain the onscreen integrity of the poems and prose we publish …
Between My Father and the King
My father fought in the First World War that used to be called ‘Great’ until the truth of its greatness was questioned and the denial of its greatness accepted.
Worthless Men
After one long winter dredging the waterways for Meek’s Steam Navigation Company, and a second short summer hauling ice …
The Wounds
Betrayal begins at home, a fine-boned fledgling,
blown-in through your window, heart a-shiver.
Soundtrack for the End of the World
‘Promise me leaf-blowers will cut out first,
Spinning in sparkless Catherine Wheels
Then dying like blue-bottles.’
Watergate
I try to sleep on Miriam’s silk divan, can’t, and walk far in a snowstorm to some 24 hour porn booth …
