issue 8
// poetry
The Pizza Oven Smokes Like An Emergency
by Eliza Day
We lift the table onto yellow grass.
I roll dough from the centre outward.
It’ll want to keep its old shape
I understand. Old habits die –
back in my childhood bedroom.
My grandparents arrive
from down the road. Downsized
and bought stocks. It’s the small modular reactors
skyrocketing! Data centres
spin with them. Funded lines
of my gridlocked poetry at university.
I hear a continuous hum
like a wasp. Shifting in seats.
We are all getting hungry.
about the author // Eliza Day
| Eliza Day recently graduated from the University of Leeds, where she studied English Literature with Creative Writing. Her short story ‘Bodies of Water’ is published by Stand. Her poems appear in Tenter Hook and The Hope Collective. |
