More from Popshot Magazine

Popshot Magazine1 min read
Join The Marches If You Are Able
I don't make a habitof tellingmy love what to dowith his body but his bonesare made of teacups & I keep picturingelbows at collarbone level, cocked& loaded like rubber bullets& rubber bullets& steel toed riot shields& shins in iron-creased bluepressi
Popshot Magazine1 min read
How Ordinary The Revelation
I left my beak hanging on the tree, but my voice continues in my head. There’s no silence in this house. No forgetting. No beginning of forgetting. Humans walk by with their widening language, their twitching wings. They don’t understand we must be q
Popshot Magazine1 min read
I’m Gradually Stealing All The Pens From Rupert’s Desk
I’m gradually stealingall the pens from Rupert’s desk.It’s my largely unacknowledgedform of silent protest. So as my cheeks reddento loud jokes at my expense,my mind can drift awayto this quiet recompense. The giggles of our colleaguescost him books