James Bradley

    Anti-Aubade Your sobs disrupt the sound of Robert Lowell reading his ‘Old Flame’ from the app on my phone. I sit on the balcony finishing a final cigarette and try to enjoy it. Leaves crackle in the darkness just outside the panes. The orange ember...

Sally Michaelson on Holocaust Memorial Day

      from The Lorch Family Magic Trick Adolf Althoff is used to riding tigers so when Gestapo soldiers come looking for Irene he plies them with Schnapps while Irene squeezes into a passage tight as a magician’s box – contracting in size until she is...

Anna Saunders

    Telling the Bees Little vials into which the sun has poured I tell you all I know about the failing crop, a marriage party, a stricken cow. Last summer I tied a ribbon to the top of your home, whispered with a sweet tongue that a new master had come....

Andrew Nightingale

    How it feels to be a bat There are the headaches, then the feverish sense of darkness. Taste, none but the crackly limbs of gnats. Hate is a constant on the radar and immense blank surfaces block the call by which I come to belong in the shape of a...

David Belcher

    A defence against all sabotage I shake out the creases from my coat, and climb the hundred steps leading to the feet of a bronze giant, its right hand raised, welcoming. I’m meant to lift my eyes, to take in its magnificence, to be stirred up into...