This poem is taken from Stand 223, 17(3) September - November 2019.
Poem
What is the wind, what is it
After Gertrude Stein
An egg – lithe beast that could crack with any pressure,
That gets yellower towards its centre, that hangs between
The fingers. A ghost-vision, serenely bovine. Incubated,
...
After Gertrude Stein
An egg – lithe beast that could crack with any pressure,
That gets yellower towards its centre, that hangs between
The fingers. A ghost-vision, serenely bovine. Incubated,
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are already a member and have not received your login details, please email us, including your name and address, and we will supply you with details of how to access the archived material.
If you are not a member and would like to enjoy the growing online archive of Stand Magazine, containing poems, articles, prose and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are already a member and have not received your login details, please email us, including your name and address, and we will supply you with details of how to access the archived material.
If you are not a member and would like to enjoy the growing online archive of Stand Magazine, containing poems, articles, prose and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
