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Christian Ward is a 27-year-old London based poet and critic who has
poetry and reviews forthcoming in Rattle, The Warwick Review and Poetry Salzburg Review.
His fourth chapbook, Slippage, will be released next Spring.
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What Was
The surgery of rain lifts the lid
on images caught in our breath:
cars sleeping in burrows. Moths
unpeeling moonlight. Lovers
casting shadows across pavements.
We see the surgeons’ results
in puddles, streams and rivers.
And then, when no-one is around,
we capture a piece of the picture
in cupped hands, ready to store
it forever like a lullaby we hope
to be sung before we are gone.
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Song
The curiosity of a child
new to the world is musical.
Notes are composed
with images from a world
we keep in our back pockets:
shadows on a suburban
lamppost, clouds casting off
their uniforms over shorn
fields. These are tossed
like unwanted Polaroids,
ready for the daily sacrifice
of dust and dark. To prepare
ourselves for becoming human
we must unlock each song,
connect it to our cities of flesh
and bone. And be still, be still.
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Jpeg
Evening’s half light. Exiled
rain gathers over cardboard
fields, diffusing the sun’s
phosphor. Edges are never
flattened out, the Jpeg
sitting within the camera’s
chassis, unaltered like child
-hood. There are no foxes
or clouds - paraphernalia
normally associated with
countryside. It sits inside
this trap of stillness,
waiting for the scrape
of the scalpel, that removal
of whatever makes it tick.
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