Anna Nightingale – 2 poems 



There is a place in Lisbon where you can see an imitation statue of Christ the Redeemer, Rio de Janeiro, and a bridge similar to The Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.


This moment is nostalgia

before nostalgia is:

lurking at the shore

of my premature thoughts. I’m gazing

at myself through gauze & taking

these gills & thrills & you for granted.

My worship ship was sinking and I capsized


sat by a river

that disregarded

the neaps

and springs of


Shoures soote only there –

months are not cruel, but me

I am a drought, drowned

in the unholy waters of Leman.

There was water so I did stop and drink

and by the rock I could not stop or think.

An alcoholic tongue:

a thing we’d never done.

The redeemer glares & my justification?

It’s not so simple

as rosaries and recitation.

The gate is gilded & these years are

something like such imitations.




If My Brain Were Spain


Exoticise my mind

like a language you’re hungry to learn

       its poli tics are a broken tongue –

and you like the validation it feeds you.


Move in there

and publicise it.

It is your neuro- bureau.

Let the confession echo, through that windowless hollow

to which

dragged you,

Without realising

I’m now trapped too. 




Anna Nightingale is from Coventry, UK and studies English at the University of Cambridge.

By Heavenly Flower Publishing

Bindweed Magazine publishes two anthologies each year: Midsummer Madness and Winter Wonderland. Bindweed is run as a not for profit, labour of love endeavour by an author/poet couple: Leilanie Stewart and Joseph Robert. Bindweed can be found at

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