Rushika Wick

    quiet slid in bass-drop dams up pierced ears, furred with youth, his vest drinks sweat, high-tops, Moog-loop domed cap punctured with embroidery, brailled ethnographic record, reverb haze of brisk lavender, wire mesh trash of the park, sun-burnt song,...

Helen Smith

    safety in numbers lunchtime, in the maths department arranging pencils by colour two friends, carefully sorting into clear plastic tubs a temporary stand against the inevitable entropy of fourteen-year-olds this, and each september brightened by a new...

Carolyn Oulton

      Autumn Fires Unexpected as burned stone, what am I supposed to do with this memory? The sudden shuffle of ash, flames clicking like needles, grey-cold flags. You there just now – I can’t be sure – perhaps about to be? 5 a.m., still curved like wax...

José Buera

    CONFIRMATION Aircon crickets through the night outside my parents’ bedroom since brother and I are not allowed AC given the dangers of cold air to children. I can’t sleep under my polyester blanket; wet back stuck to cotton sheets fused to a mattress...

Abraham Aondoana

    Inheritance of Smoke We did not inherit land, only remnants of fields they burned— black fields scorched before we understood what it meant to sow. Fathers left us silence: not of cruelty, but some shattering fear. Growing up, we learned to decipher...