Monday, 4 March 2019

A Poem by Alex Josephy

Call of the Void

The famous view; I rest my bike 
against the rail, take a moment to gaze, 

catch a breath of beyond, a kick
of vertigo. From here, hills are flattened, 

tiny vehicles trickle down the valleys 
that stretch to oblivion. Nothing seems 

quite real, and I fancy myself as Icarus, 
too high to take advice. Or I’ll be Thelma 

with the flying curls. Imagine going over 
on a laugh, hand-in-hand with Louise. 

Or how might it be to plummet 
solo through deep air, pass the kestrel, 

the low-gliding sisterhood of doves? 
It’s not just me. They’ve installed 

a row of benches facing the drop, each 
named for someone no longer here. 


Alex lives in London and  Italy. Her pamphlet Other Blackbirds was published by Cinnamon Press, 2016 and her collection White Roads by Paekakariki Press, 2018. Her poems have appeared quite widely in magazines and anthologies in the UK and Italy, and have won awards including the McLellan prize 2014 and the Battered Moons prize 2013. 

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