Everything Everyday is a poetic journal of the year that charts winter through to autumn in a richly textured sequence of diary-poems, lyric fragments and a crown of sonnets. Hannah Lavery delivers bold and deeply resonant prose, as seen in the following sample of poems.

Everything Everyday
By Hannah Lavery
Published by Polygon

Address to the Determined Optimist
27th January
Holocaust Remembrance Day

I am a determined optimist.
I want tae believe you. But it’s morning,
This morning, and the radio speaks their names
Again [automaton] not in prayer
Never again [damnation]. He raised his arm.
Yes. A Nazi salute. Yes, He did. Yes. He meant it.
And folk price up eggs. Orbán says freedom,
Then shuts their mouths in a prison cell,
and still we scroll past, you say
I am a determined optimist
I want tae believe you. But the names keep coming.
The arm stays raised. The mouths stay shut.
The feed refreshed. And nothing.
[interrupts our morning].

7.
Harbour Song

Makin waves. Dead
at the shore, Tahlequah dives,
singin low foghorn, carrying
the names lemon drops
of the drowned dead. Beira turns 

tae chants in the heat,
her crook casts deep shadow.
The square is full of drums
and mangoes. Sister Icarus dances

wi strangers, her brother watching
from the edge. He does not join her.
He films. Later, his video is clipped
and shared. The comments burn.

She does not reply. 

A Day in the Life
26th July
After The Beatles

I heard the news today, oh boy.
My boys sleeps on. Last night I heard him
building Lego battalions through the wall,
turned the light out tae the familiar

sound of his playing; the school holidays
means no need tae put a stop
tae his late-night campaigns.
The doctor on the radio

says he is treating mostly young teenage
boys, shot while queuing for food.
I have two boys, fifteen and eighteen,
which one would I send? The eldest,

the strongest,
could carry all that we need.

The strongest, could carry all that we need,
his younger brother the fastest on his feet.
I heard the news today, oh boy.

One day shots to the abdomen;
another day their necks; another
their testicles.
It’s like a game to them,
he says. My husband comes up
wi my morning cup of tea tae find me
weeping intae my pillow,
his look of concern leaves me
feeling ashamed.
What use is this? I say,
turning the pillow over.
 

12.
Our Empty Promises

She swims. The ocean
is a wound. Tahlequah carries
our children. Beira walks
with her sisters. Sister Icarus
makes herself clear landing
for him. The year turns. The silence
remains. But so does our howl:
the soil singing, the sky listening.
The wind rising tae answer. Fire
burns. Beira dances at the solstice.
Sister Icarus’s vigil for the falling night.
Tahlequah mourns them [all our promises].
We will remember what we did. We will
be remembered for what we did not do.

Everything Everyday by Hannah Lavery is published by Polygon, priced £10.99.