Three Poems by Alex Reed Slip I called to you this morning from another room in this new house we chose together, as lovers call to one another, every day, for a hundred mundane reasons there’s coffee in the kitchen, someone wants you on the phone, leaving now but won’t be long I meant to call you in this way but through some slip in time and place,called you by her name. After all these years, I used her namewhen the word I wanted was Love. Past lives As if meeting a promise she made to herself a long time ago, as if placing an unfinished glass at the edge of the cluttered table, as if turning her body away forever, she speaks very gently, I asked only this, that you were honest. Weekly ramble You’re on at me for being late again, while you were on time as you always are, then as we walk the talk turns to the usual stuff: cutting back on the drink, watching the waistline, you’ve found a new app that tracks your heartrate, then you mention some bloke we went to school with who you bumped into the other day, he looked a right fucking plight— I’ve never seen anyone in such a state still walking the street, and we both go quiet, feeling better. Meet the Poet! Alex Reed’s poetry has been published in various print and on-line magazines. His pamphlets A Career in Accompaniment and These Nights at Home (with accompanying images by Keren Banning) were published by V. Press and explore themes of illness, care-giving and loss.His recent collection knots, tangles, fankles (V.Press, 2022) is a re-imagining of the work of radical psychiatrists R.D. Laing & A. Esterson on family life and ‘schizophrenia’. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Published by fragmentedvoices A small, independent press based in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, UK, and Prague, the Czech Republic View all posts by fragmentedvoices