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Alt Lit

just sat there
the second cd in the three disc changer
is ready

oh crazybones
oh pokemon card
oh party ring

the smashing pumpkins are playing
tonight is the night
we connect pc to pc
and multiplayer red alert

holy whose line is it anyway?
holy limp bizkit
holy sunny delight
holy holy holy holy
holy cha cha slide

you try to swing so high on the swing
so that you loop three hundred and sixty degrees
but you just end up in the woodchip

pitch idea to dragons den
urban dictionary, the print edition
im sorry i cant see this working
im out
im out
im out
im out
im out

Zach Roddis

You Only Live Fifty Million Times was the debut spoken word album from Zach Roddis, a DIY Poet based in Manchester. He is about to launch his debut full length collection of poems, essays and nonsense, a further self-published book called Tourism.


Boxxy you are the home of the anonymous. I liked to read on you
all my false news – it went across your head like The Financial
District and how you glowed with it. I got Tippex and painted you
as an angel on my childhood rucksack and wore you proudly to
school – you’ve got the kind of fame of girls who killed other girls
in childhood. I wonder if you’ve ever seen lampposts in LA? Do
they have crabs where you are? Sometimes everyone thinks you’re
dead. I saw a rainbow today but it had nothing on you. Your eyes
held entire months of teenage summers when my skin smelt of a
scented diary from the garden centre or an Impulse set from
Safeways – anyway I think where we lost you was somewhere in
the Californian sun squint and glare.

Rachael Allen

Rachael Allen is the poetry editor for Granta. She is co-editor of poetry anthology series Clinic and online journal Tender. A pamphlet of her poems is published with Faber as part of the Faber New Poets series.


there was some kind of genesis
when the three of us became naked
on the mud next to the pond

and we were unashamed to dance
with our dangling parts
wagging about

and we – you me – adam and eve
watched the poet man – the lightning man
hungrily and lustily

undoing the buttons of his shirt
his heart striking lightning
against the sky

before the three of us tumbled into the water to swim
laughed about naked backstroke
were joined by horses

David Devanny

hand delivered invitation

can you come round this saturday
we’re celebrating our divorce

we’re having a bbq
and a few drinks
i really hope you can make it

you don’t have to bring
and it would be lovely
to see the boys

there will be toasts
to the divorce

my plan is to
set light to dandelion heads
and drink until nightfall
under the gazebo

our house is the one with the balloons

David Devanny

David Devanny is poet and printer from Bradford. He co-runs the specialist poetry publishing house The New Fire Tree Press. His poem ‘orange sweatshirt’ was shortlisted for The New Media Writing Prize 2013.


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