Paul Attwell: a poem


Paper Snow

Recurring heatwave in my throat.

My tonsils, unfit for use.

The hospital a tan-bricked ogre.

Judas kiss from parents,

but who'd be slapped at night?

Who'd soothe their feet?

Later, I discarded toilet paper

from a side window.

Paper snow, riding the air.

Even home appealed.

Even returning to the classroom;

that glacial void.



Paul Attwell lives in Richmond, London, with his partner Alis, and Pudsey the cat. Paul’s experiences of depression and ADHD help shape his work. His pamphlet, Blade, is available here.