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MARJORIE MAYO recommends an accessible and unsettling novel that uses a true incident of death in the Channel to raise questions of wider moral responsibility
Lollipops
by Tracey Rhys
MIK SABIERS wallows in a night of political punk and funk that fires both barrels at Trump
Reasonable radicalism, death in Abu Dhabi, locked-room romance, and sleuthing in the Blitz
SIMON DUFF recommends a new album from renowned composer and oud player Anour Brahem.
JAMES WALSH has a great night in the company of basketball players, quantum physicists and the exquisite timing of Rosie Jones
A New Awakening: Adventures In British Jazz 1966 - 1971, G3, and Buck Owens
JAMES WALSH is moved by an exhibition of graphic art that relates horrors that would be much less immediate in other media
We never knew a cold house until that year,
when the coal stopped being delivered in
diamond-studded landslides in the back lane.
The bunker in the garden, with the red
rust lid, empty. And the winter cold,
as all the seasons are up here,
where roads reach peaks and begin
their downward spins, back along the ridges
and the slagheaps, straining under terraces
of unworked men, their tired wives, the hungry kids
sucking at the icicles on the sills for lollipops.
Tracey Rhys is an award-winning poet and non-fiction editor from South Wales. Her collection Bathing on the Roof will be published in April 2025. Lollipops will appear in We Not Me, an anthology of contemporary Welsh poetry from Culture Matters.
Poetry submissions to thursdaypoems@gmail.com
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