17. 07. 2023 From the balcony - empty Taco Bell cups race down the street like hysterical kids. Hollyhocks thrash against one another in the wind. Summer is sick and I run my finger along the balcony rail, feeling the tender warmth from the lingering touches of sunshine. When the storm arrives, I am far too interested in watching it unfold to care about what’s been. I want nothing more than for change, to always feel this way.
About the Author: Gwil James Thomas is a poet, novelist and inept musician. He lives in his hometown of Bristol, England but has also lived in London, Brighton and Spain. His twelfth chapbook of poetry Wild River Carry me to Sea will be published soon by Back Room Poetry. His poems have recently featured in Viper’s Tongue, DLF Lit, Paper & Ink, The Songs From The Underground anthology and Late Britain Zine. He plans to one day build a house, amongst other things. Instagram: @gwiljamesthomas
Image Credit: Herman Saftleven “A Hollyhock” (1682) Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 