The last king, by the entrails of the last priest, in the conservatory.
The speaking clock, by the candlestick, in the director’s cut.
The bull, by the horns, in the china shop.
My honey, by the light of the silvery moon, in June.
The mourner, by the waters of Babylon, in high tide.
The hospital, by the Conservative, in the bill.
The author, by the post-structuralist, in the library.
Roddy Shippin is a young (though greying) Edinburgh-based writer/call centre lackey. He’s had poems on the Poetry Scotland Open Mouse and a handful of stones, as well as various incarnations of the St Andrews student writing society (Inklight) journal. He probably spends more time thinking about snooker than is technically necessary.
Want to see YOUR poem featured on ONS? Read this post first: submission guidelines are at the bottom. Good luck!
You can also visit Read This Press for more poetry (and typewriter paraphernalia!). Alternatively, check out Edinburgh Vintage, our sister site. If you want to get in touch you can follow OneNightStanzas on Twitter, or email claire[at]onenightstanzas.com. I reply as swiftly as I can!