welcome home, starling

you are safe now

Moving Lines

Moving Lines

When the sun shone permission onto me,

suddenly living inside book and till

has caused roots to curdle and unravel,

releasing growing pains that swell from the muscle

inwards to the heart. So I clock out and depart, ignoring

the monkey telling me of haunted hurdles ahead


‘cause they just keep moving the line.


The hurdles that did occur are as follows:

it’s praying work fatigue allows you exhale,

a wish granted by the form of suspension.

It’s reading about love to an audience of non-believers

and then being stag of the group date afterwards.

It’s enduring the roller coaster residues of rejection

and the stillness of an acceptance letter. Four months

have braced the skin but not so much the heart


‘cause they just keep moving the line.


Now I guess none have pleased enough gods

so I’ll just let the growing pains throb,

squeezing me like a lemon until I’m fizzy,

golden with conviction, reviving my hands

until they can mould time like clay, twist immortality to my will

until the final shot’s mine to down, for right now


I’d toast to resurrection

but they just keep moving the line.



Refrains from They Just Keep Moving The Line by Megan Hilty (SMASH)


Troy Cabida (b. 1995) is a Manila-born poet, editor and budding spoken-word artist currently based in London. A Barbican Young Poet 2016-2017, some of his recent poems have appeared on BukambibigCha: An Asian Literary JournalWe Are A WebsiteThe Traveling PoetW.I.S.H.Eastlit and The Ofi Press, where his poem was translated into Spanish. He is currently fiction editor for The Murmur House and previously has edited issues forSiblíní Journal, Thought Notebook and 30 Days Dry by poet-playwright Robert Eric Shoemaker. Catch him blogging over at www.troycabida.wordpress.com.


Thomasson kiss

Thomasson kiss