jw summerisle is an autistic poet from the english east midlands. once commended by and once a winner of the foyles young poets of the year award, they have chapbooks with blacksunflowers poetry press (kinfolk, 2022), back room poetry (the book of bad mothers, 2024).




Also by jw summerisle: the book of bad mothers kinfolk

September 11, 2024

jw summerisle

beechey island nudes



the composition of snake oil adapts as the body's exhumed. unseen flesh smells sweet to the starving, and a dog is tethered to the shoreline. it's a comfort to know that i can't trust you. coffins, soft from the permafrost, split flowers where they bloom. white and yellow like the dead. we could theorise that it's poison, collect cans from the bay, our fingers black and tainted, lead in the blood and shining with hoarfrost. our skin glistens when exposed. we remember to decay. it is so ugly. there is so much pain in being hopeful.


the poem draws on footage from the 1986 documentary on the Northwest Passage, that followed Owen Beattie as he exhumed and studied the remains of three of Franklin's crewmen buried there. it is an immensely haunting and disturbing piece of media as the team poke through the scraps of tin cans and gravel, and undress the men with surprising tenderness to speculate on their cause of death. these are unknown people, so far away, whom i have seen undressed and laid out so vulnerably. this is a poem from a presently unpublished collection, looking at colonialism and bodies, the english desire to know the unknowable at distance, and the moral greyness of it all.


Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published weekly by Glass Poetry Press.
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