Britta Giersche

      3am a wooden door slams shut in my brain a man perishes in a space the size of his grave from malnutrition eighty years ago (I travel on my mother’s electric waves that held their spoken words’ shape) I am sorry that the thud left a hole in your...
Maxine Flasher-Düzgüneş

Maxine Flasher-Düzgüneş

 4.21.21   my friend sends me, Brooklyn a reminder uncounted she guides me softly through many-miles forever towards nothing the hedges grow in-between metal gates but pictures bridge the rivers they spread over March like Tama Impala, lost in it and grates that...

Abby Crawford

      Stonevale When I was born the house was full of stones, an old blacksmiths shed. Rubble became walls, became home. I used a brush as tall as me to brush debris, dust, oyster shells. In my blue gingham dress and boots. We lived down from the...

Rachael Clyne

      Homeland And if a land      loses its people and they are exiled           will a land feel their absence will it dream         of their calloused feet on its warm skin      will it grieve the touch of hands familiar           with the ways of its...

Tom Nutting

      We Were Seeds Found poem from trans rights protest and counter-protest on College Green, Bristol, Saturdays 19th & 26th April 2025. The counter protest was quickly drowned out. I. God created man and woman — Let us piss in peace! Only a man...