Anita Goveas

Titles of my autobiography I have discarded -Everything I know I learned from my mother -Life changed the second time my sister went into hospital -Shame is a social construct -My first day at nursery, the teacher blushed when I described an aubergine -While my...

Matt Merritt

      Peninkulma The precise distance at which a dog’s bark dissolves into nothing. Much further, you might think, in the snow-soft forests of Scandinavia than some dormitory suburb, or a small town whose sleep is still measured by the hourly chime of a...

Mick Corrigan

      No more ordinary mornings There are no more ordinary mornings when Greenland comes pouring through your letterbox and the chickens have stopped giving milk, when you don’t have to go to the sea anymore as the sea is now coming to you. There are no...

Elisabeth Sennitt Clough

    Ague When it comes, it will scratch away the surface of Fen, release the secrets of our soil. It will sing its lullaby over a girl’s bones at the bottom of a village well. Its tongue will rouse small forms to hatch in the eyes of a dying mare. It will...