Heartbeats, by John Porter

Mice spend with abandon hundreds per minute spilling out as they scuttle. Whereas blue whales know the value, enough power in one beat to keep the lights on. Somewhere inside…

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The maze, by John Porter

First the square was taped off as they unloaded hedges and everyone worked getting lost into their day. But routes through changed and we had to step over bodies of…

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2 Poems by John Porter

Gloucester They’ve built a Slavic bus station in Gloucester, huge letters perching atop the concrete, I’d like to curl inside the O and re-read Oblomov. The hall is a civic…

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