Northern English Love Story by Mark Robinson

Startforth. Copley. Rushyford.
Ogle. Snitter. Seaton.

Hett. Consett. Hetton-le-Hole.
Cockfield. Felling. Wingate.

Hart. Newfield. Sacriston.
Broom. Tantobie. Sunniside.

Rowley. Morpeth. Pity Me.
Stobswood. Ulgham. Tudboe.

Newbiggin. Ingoe. High Spen.
Esh. Greatham. Bedlington.

Pontop. Dipton. Satley.
New Brancepeth. New Ridley. New Hart!


“The important thing is to adapt your dish of spaghetti to the circumstances of your state of mind” – Guiseppe Marotta

In the parallel universe where wizened Corsicans
rave over suet dumplings and rapturously murmur
improvised sonnets in praise of stotty,
barm cake, bloomer, cob, scone (to rhyme with gone)

no one would criticize me for never mentioning
the real grievance at the heart of this poem.
I’d be lauded for the tightness of my lip,
for the way you feel my teeth grit and grind,

for how I shrug off questions with a joke
about the endless spouting of emotion
I waded through to get here.

I think of this as the glaze of a first pressing
spreads its lucent green over the frying pan,
ready to spit at the suggestion of an onion.

Issue Four

Editorial: Outside the Penumbra of Postmodernism

Modernist After Modernism

John Peck

Four British Poets

Orlando Ricardo Menes

Catherine Kasper

Kymberly Taylor

Charles Cantalupo

Stephen Collis

Reviews of: Tod Thilleman

Reviews of: Charles Bernstein & Co.

And: The Word From Russia

And: The Word From Ireland

Samizdat Magazine, © 2000-2001 R. Archambeau

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