Poetry by Alan Parry

                         Nicolas Henderson CC



​Solemnities

the house, with its sharp
fall of stairs, still smelt of
lemon & lavender

we congregated in the parlour
dressed in
fetish black & mallard

Rev. Kelly offered
a tray of devilled eggs
around, while

Tomos fingered Gwahoddiad on
the pianola & slow as a funeral
each of us stood in song





​Anamnesis

iron frosted windows
like the blueberry on her fingertips –
she stands by herself,

recalling tandem bike rides,
how he gnawed on root ginger &
sang silver songs – more than time





Apple Gin

september – two pm –

walking to buy wool
i see a miscreant tree tormenting
children up ahead –

i hit it with my cane
a dozen apples fall like
red-skinned moons –

& Nan fills her bag –
we steep them in gin that evening

​

Alan Parry is a poet, playwright and poetry editor from Merseyside, England. He is an English Literature graduate and English teacher. Alan enjoys gritty realism, open ends, miniature schnauzers and 60s girl groups. He has previously had work published by Dream Noir, Streetcake Magazine, Black Bough Poems and others. He cites Alan Bennett, Stan Barstow and James Joyce as inspiration. His debut poetry collection, Neon Ghosts is available from thebrokenspine.co.uk/shop. 

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