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An Ordinary Woman

Alan Bennett

Anglo-America Loses its Grip

Pankaj Mishra

Short Cuts: John Bolton’s Unwitting Usefulness

Mattathias Schwartz

Smells of Hell

Keith Thomas

Mrs Oliphant

Tom Crewe

Tippett’s Knack

Philip Clark

At Tate Modern: Steve McQueen

Colin Grant

Catherine Lacey

Nicole Flattery

Churchill’s Cook

Rosemary Hill

The ‘Batrachomyomachia’

Ange Mlinko

On Dorothea Lange

Joanna Biggs

Paid to Race

Jon Day

Poem: ‘Traveller’s Tales: Chapter 90’

August Kleinzahler

The Soho Alphabet

Andrew O’Hagan

Old Tunes

Stephen Sedley

Victor Serge’s Defective Bolshevism

Tariq Ali

The Murdrous Machiavel

Erin Maglaque

Diary: Insane after coronavirus?

Patricia Lockwood

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Mephisto 5

I AM A GOD WITH A HUGE FACE. Lions
and eagles pour out of my mouth. Big white
square teeth and a red-purple tongue. There are
magenta clouds around my head and this
is my throne room where I
change opals into souls
in a spark of alchemy.
    Only a fool is impartial
to cool mist
 on the face on a brisk walk
 through the canyon. – Sometimes passed
in semi-darkness by a biker
or
a car
  delivering the papers.

AN
ORDINARY DAY
 in Paradiso with clouds
  of angels making a rose.

Smell of wet humus
   over the rostrum of lichens.

We are ‘safe in Heaven dead’
and the drone planes do not film
our home for the watchers
    near Denver.

Mephisto 6

SOMBREROS THE COLOUR OF CHILDREN’S
COOKIES. Colourlessness at the edges
of things. – Radiances of blue-silver
roll through consciousness
  past the precipice of protein and quarks.
  The silk scarf is sleek
on
 the
 neck
    – greens and reds melt into sienna.

 ART
      DISAPPEARS
         in department store limbo.

       I am always here on this rock
    ESCARPMENT
       eating a sandwich with you,
        watching mist tufts rise
         from the ravines.

         When you are angry
     MY
       CHEST,
        these ribs,
        lock together into stone
         and there’s the smell
         of the smoke
         of feathers burning.

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