Yanita Georgieva


I haven’t had a conversation since 2009
The last time I heard two people speak
It was not with but despite each other
I watched their flight paths crossing briefly over Omaha
Leaving a dot of white smoke
When no listener is present
The role is assigned to a nearby pedestrian
And at this job like any other job
It is a curse to be good
No one comes to pick up the furniture
Strangers leave in your brain
The birthdays, the Red Tins, that terrible
Song or the memory of how when one
Couple was breaking up on the tube
They couldn’t stop saying each other’s names
I too would like someone to listen but
I know I am being unreasonable, so I ask it
Quietly and only of myself
When I retire this train, I hope a man I never loved
Comes out of the woodwork
Repeating a line I offhandedly said
It’s true – no one is listened to
More than the dead
After the news my friend turned into a prophet
I studied his messages like scripture and still
Couldn’t say what he meant
By that dream where two bodies
Emerge from the mud pond
Or why the last time I saw him he asked if
I truly believed he was good




Yanita Georgieva is a poet and journalist. She was born in Bulgaria, raised in Lebanon, and now lives in London. She received the Out-Spoken Prize for Poetry in 2022 and was shortlisted for the Ivan Juritz Prize. She is a member of the Southbank New Poets Collective and runs the poetry collective Dreamboat. You can find her work in Poetry Wales, bath magg, Waxwing, The Cardiff Review, and elsewhere.

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Image Credit: Flightpath Tatters Painting, Kate Williamson

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