Poems for workshop - 20th January 2026

Aurora Borealis by Jasmine Cooray 

I smuggled his ashes
across Norway in a soap box, 

shook them into one hand, and threw.
The grain of him left my frozen palms,

rose into the arctic air – icy jaws opening
to catch him – but some clung to my skin

as if he knew I didn’t really want this 
goodbye, this flame to photograph.

I wanted his face to appear in the glow,
voice rumbling like Mufasa,

longed for him to speak from
the dizzying black: I’m here, Baba. 

I kissed my palms, powder
lodged in fingerprint and lifeline. 

I didn’t yet know the ways
in which he would return,

cartwheel across the skies of me,
leave me shivering in his wake. 







 
And Then It Was Less Bleak Because We Said So by Wendy Xu 

Today there has been so much talk of things exploding
into other things, so much that we all become curious, that we
all run outside into the hot streets
and hug. Romance is a grotto of eager stones
anticipating light, or a girl whose teeth
you can always see. With more sparkle and pop
is the only way to live. Your confetti tongue explodes
into acid jazz. Small typewriters
that other people keep in their eyes
click away at all our farewell parties. It is hard
to pack for the rest of your life. Someone is always
eating cold cucumber noodles. Someone will drop by later
to help dismantle some furniture. A lot can go wrong
if you sleep or think, but the trees go on waving
their broken little hands.

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