The Refugee Game by Mike Jenkins You start in your own land. What are you fleeing from? Pick a card: drought, war, famine,A callous, oppressive regime. If... Continue reading
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Picnic in a Car by Mike Jenkins, with image above by Martin Gollan It’s winter,theyer avin a picnicin theyer car agen,im an erup Cyfarthfa Parkoverlookin-a lakeshaped like... Continue reading
Igh Sheriff o Merthyr by Mike Jenkins Ee wuz off of is trolley,shoutin in-a middle o Penderyn Squarelike ee woz a Town Crier. Ee ad all the... Continue reading
Lock Me Up by Mike Jenkins Lock me up , Rishi Sunak!I have committed a thought -crime,I am a modern Winston Smith,I call myself Mihangel Morgannwg. Rip... Continue reading
Ey Mister Lan’Lor’! by Mike Jenkins, with image by Gus Payne Tell me, Mister Lan’lor’wha yew doin t me?Jest me an my kidtryin t make ends meet.I... Continue reading
Wern My Fault by Mike Jenkins There wuz this fuckin ard gangLed by this bloke Vlad(Arfta some ol rooler). Ee didn give a toss‘Bout trainers on wires,Ee... Continue reading
Capitalism is working by Mike Jenkins We’re running out of petrolOn the road to oblivion. Food or heat the choiceFor many who are struggling. The sea and... Continue reading
She Died Alone by Mike Jenkins She died there in hospital,no husband, Sissy, daughter Ingridno church kin around herand at her funeral of regulation 10her own Lusamba... Continue reading
To A Different Country by Mike Jenkins We were selling ticketsfor a journey to a different country(our own, yet changed totally).At the station our flags flappedin a... Continue reading
Mike Jenkins offers a prose-poem inspired by Martin Hayes’ book of poetry ‘The things our hands once stood for’ Those Hands for Martin Hayes ... Continue reading
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