The excellent people at Burning House do wonderful things, such as: publish a huge range of fascinating fiction, non fiction, images and poetry; use a different editor and theme each month; run a publishing house; and intermittently release a print mag called The Arsonist.
Three of my poems have recently been posted at Burning House. Here’s an extract from one, head over to Burning House have a look at rest.
Someone has tattooed LIONS on my forearm.
I’m trying to wash it off in the Atlantic.
My sunglasses are salt splashed
I’m rancid with thirst, my cut-off jeans
flap in the waves, the only shirt I own is a story
the Levante tells my skin.
I limp a bent line to the day bars,
they’re cracking first beers and playing
Macklemore on repeat through portable speakers. I nod
to the hepped-up flow. I know every nook
on this earth is white-washed with pallid graffiti.
We tap fingers to what we despise.
For the month of September the editor is Rachael de Moravia and the theme is:
How do we explore notions of home through art? How do we express longing for—and belonging to—places and landscapes, to communities, to ideas? And what if we don’t belong anywhere? I’m drawn to work that examines why we travel — through exile, or to escape; by force, necessity or choice.