Morrison's shop
All the fridges have broken down
a Cook with no ham
© Rachel Green June 2026
Routines
we took turns on Sundays;
one of us would make breakfast
while the other slept in until ten
or else wake to the bells of the church
at the edge of the common.
We'd listen to The Archers
omnibus edition on Radio Four
which he'd followed for twenty years
and I barely tolerated.
Shouting began on the closing music
then afterwards
a visit to the parent's
or maybe A&E.
© Rachel Green June 2026
evening mowing
the dog appreciates it
clean toilet
© Rachel Green June 2026
Have You Tried Not Assuming?
I am not single
no matter what you think
and what you assume from my profile.
I'm not straight
nor sis
nor young
nor available
nor interested.
men assume interest
that a comment I make on a public forum
must be personal,
intimate,
inviting.
It is not.
© Rachel Green June 2026
waste ground
teeming with butterflies
buddleias
© Rachel Green June 2026
Peas
my mother sits on the front step
shelling peas in the sunshine,
the green-painted, half-paned door
open to create a draught.
Two dogs at her feet;
and old whippet and a lab cross;
middle aged and fat,
spreading onto an old rug
like honey melting under heat.
She smiles at the camera;
her skirt full of fresh-picked pods,
the colander between her knees,
and a washing up bowl at her side,
where she throws empty pods for compost.
I steal a fresh pod from her
it is full of pea-moth maggots.
© Rachel Green June 2026
red heat warning
peeling off sweaty knickers
hot girl
© Rachel Green June 2026
Confession
sixteen
barely an adult; barely a child
half-orphaned already
my widower father won't talk to me
I look too much like my mother.
He works early shift, overtime
comes home at two in the morning
and shouts to turn my light out
electricity doesn't grow on trees.
This is 1978, and solar technology
is still only in science fiction.
I've been transcribing Crowley;
carving a pentagram into the floorboards
while candles drip wax onto a sheep skull
found in the North Wales countryside.
I know there is no god
for what god would take a mother?
but there is certainly a devil;
I'd seen too much evidence;
impossible figures in liminal spaces,
the voice that whispers in the quiet.
© Rachel Green June 2026
thunderstorm
a mere wetting of the ground
heat wave return
© Rachel Green June 2026
Corporate America
seven trumpets
the prophecy said,
but still Abaddon rises
before a single one is blown.
Where are the angels?
Where is the Redeemer?
Vengeful souls are handed fresh white robes
but there is no resurrection.
The angels are dead, or gone away
and only the devils are left.
© Rachel Green June 2026
heat wave
the dog needs to leave
cooler outside
© Rachel Green June 2026
"I'm dead," said the ghost,
but he hadn't a tongue
or lips to shape words
or his teeth or a lung
so all he could do
was to move through the air
and make people feel cold
if they're standing there.
Did I mention at all
he's invisible, too,
so he cannot be seen
when he looks out of you.
© Rachel Green June 2026
birthday lad
"He looks like a monkey"
but we love him
© Rachel Green June 2026
Such a Nice Girl
It's very good to have a pet
a puppy or a mog;
people hear me talking
and assume it's to the dog.
I never disabuse them
of the notion that they hold
for better they don't know the truth
or else they snub me cold.
I'm taking to a demon
standing here, right next to me
it's not my fault your innocence
denies the chance to see.
The devils live around us
and they've been here all along
they're drawn to all the mayhem
and they love the dance and song.
I only tell you this because
that Doctor said to, please:
He thinks I have disorders
but his demon disagrees.
© Rachel Green June 2026
