3 Poems by Cooper Kalamat

As it Lays

quiet morning light
falls on old retail signage
quietly fading


In the Park

on a bench
an old man lies
hand acradle
but nothing inside



Nightjack


The hollow car park scrapes underfoot

its darkness reflected in each puddle

I rush through

but stop

  briefly

for one sound that tells me its story 


eight hours done – 

I barely utter ten words

to anyone


    and the stale taste of morning comes

                with a cold listless light.

        the front doors yawn wide and

                a breath from outside lifts an

         ethanolic blossom through –

the sickening perfume of the

   desperate rising birds.



Cooper Kalamat writes about to the underside of contemporary millennial life. He currently lives in his hometown of Bournemouth in the UK.

Ryan De LeonComment