Paul Grant

    There is something more Mostly now I want to Slit the throat Of every sunset Then stroke its cheap bleached hair And tell it Everything will be ok Sometimes This sadness is So sweet That all you can do Is smile As the tingle Moves all through you As you...

Jean Taylor

    The Shape of the Gap I give you the gap in my body shaped like a conference pear. You might keep it in a silver box or else in your anorak pocket wrapped in a man-sized tissue. The surgeon who gave me the gap said I was looking down both barrels of a...

Megan O’Reilly

      15th of April   Saturday morning, I watch condensation drip down the window and steam rise from the brim of a blue coffee cup. Today marks a year since your death and I still sit at this same window, sip from a cup you gave me two Christmases ago....

Steve Xerri

      Self portrait : diptych I It will do, the Polaroid’s black- &-white : but a ground of sky-like azurite with aetatis suae XX lettered in gold would better suit this curly-head in starprint shirt, his life set permanently to May, cheek...

Stefan Parker

    Inside Your heart is a foot pedal on an airbed pumping away, as I feel your first kick at this late hour. My hand on the hillock; a creeper on a gravid marble sphere. Can you hear my voice inside that colloidal world? Was that a punch against the dark...