sometimes the sun is hot, and colourless

i s s u e: 1

// p o e t r y

Sometimes the sun is hot, and colourless
by Victoria Spires

And green ideas sleep, but only
furiously. I am fond of asking, where

is Chomsky, when you need him? But
I’m a lover, not a linguist. At the end

of the world, I’ll still be singing paeans
to the effects of thermonuclear hydrogen

efficiency. And if that is not an argument
to occasionally lift up the bonnet

of meaning, then consider, if all we build
is not a secret architecture of leaving?

about the author // Victoria Spires

Victoria Spires’ (she/her) poems scribble in the margins of remembered philosophies, overheard ideas, nature, motherhood and desire. Her work has been featured or is forthcoming in various publications including The Winged Moon, Berlin Lit, Suburban Witchcraft, Ghost City Review, and Dust. She was commended in the Ledbury Poetry Competition 2024 and shortlisted for the Aesthetica Arts Creative Writing Award. She is also a contributing editor at The Winged Moon.

Instagram: @jitterbug_writes X/Twitter: @jitterbugwrites