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Reversible

Today I’m wearing my body inside out;
I was in a hurry when I got up this morning;
I also left my feet under the bed
and my hands possibly in the bedside drawer.
No wonder I can’t get a grip

I’m stumbling around in no particular direction
unable to grasp anything; nothing new there then
My heart notice, is not on my sleeve
but in its proper heart place working
co-operatively with all the other parts of me.

I think it makes other people uncomfortable
to see my vital organs and skeleton exposed
at this hour of the morning, I expect
it reminds them of death -
but skin knows when it needs a rest.

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Flood Risk Management Strategy

What if climate change meant turning parts of the city into flood mitigation reservoirs? This poem imagines the result.

Not Really

Ever woken up knowing that a relative, or even a pet, has died? Here's one woman telling her story.

Extract from ‘Offcomers’

Shortlisted for the Benedict Kiely Award and given a special mention in the Galley Beggar Prize, Rosanna Hildyard's 'Offcomers' takes you back 20 years, to the Foot & Mouth epidemic in Yorkshire.

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