Stephanie Powell

      The iron moon, looks differently under hospital windows shakes down completely sometimes, touches the eye of the rich drunk- squatting in the alleyway for a piss It is not romantic, no. Does not bring knees to pavement- does not heal broken skin....

Sam Garvan

      The Last Train Pulls Away That day, my mother wore her rose-print and wandered from room to room in acres of blossom. She heard a thin, far loophole in the wind sweeter than new-mown hay. Her face was lit. Out of nowhere my father come back from...

Kevin Higgins

       Their Return The people who lived here before, we slowly abolish them by buying beaming new fridges, washer dryers, cookers with fan ovens that actually work and two year warranties, more sofas for the cat to do Tai Chi on. Yet the rooms are...

Pen Kease

      Visual Impairment for Rowan when you trace her lines brittle teeth cheek-bones you’ll remember your mother’s face know her by her footsteps when there is cacophony speak and sounds will become ordered new ride the water row and pull until you are ...