BLOSSOM HIBBERT

BLOSSOM HIBBERT has a pamphlet, suddenly, it’s now, published by Leafe Press. Her work has appeared in places such as The Temz Review, Litter, International Times, Anthropocene & Buttonhook Press. She is a poet from Nowhere.

Easy read of the poems in the images above:

Strange again in the hot city.

To Lilly - come back home.

Ma – I am writing to you to tell you, I miss

your country. Come here and tell me about Manchester;

about the way she tastes. My sister and I on the balcony

which is a catwalk. It’s the fourth of August at ten

to collapse, we’re gambling our expensive diamonds

tonight. Halve the sweet baklava like a

clock face, feeling better about violent sons;

silk cigars in soiled underwear. Look at all those

stars tonight; heavy and desperate, petticoats shining

on our gorgeousness. I prick the air with a finger

because I want to see if it wrinkles like cold

custard. Cigarette lighter toward her cheek, warmth

hangs itself in the air. Let me tell you about the art of

survival, aşkum... the art of walking home without

moving. I take off her

name and the very same sister reaches out

for me in bed. There must be no more

universe left. It wasn’t easy - admittedly, and

besides –

one of us had to stay behind.

[Aşkum -> turkish for ‘my love’]

Times were never this good

You pose naked on a mattress for

bank notes, watch me suffocate

inside a tuna can. The dog has started losing his

hair. Only a leash now.

Can’t stop calling

Lydia, every time I go for a walk Lydia Lydia

Lydia, like I’m some dirty sailor. While

sleeping off the crazy she answers my call;

Such a violent

beginning to creation is not for girls like you,

Lydia. Crave the unexpected. Cabbage

fields, pyrexia, lonely bookstore and a little

understanding of the dawn. I do not invite

tomorrow morning. He turns up at the door and calls

me by my real name.

I turn back to face the alter. Lydia is not

and never was

real.