by IB | Apr 23, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
A Philosophy of Light Formed into darkness an octopus squeezes around the spaces of a shipwreck. Light from the bloodmoon reddens the water and the octopus adapts and bleeds. The Earth hadn’t planned to block the sun. The moon can’t help how it affects...
by IB | Apr 22, 2025 | Filmpoems
Boundaries Slipping between acidic and calcareous, crossing the divide of counties between childhood and now. Black podsols below the acid mor leached horizons delving deeper than my tiny layers of accumulations. A young scale of existence wildly different from...
by IB | Apr 22, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Dance With My Father after Luther I never danced with my father more so beside him, sometimes across in the clock face of summer dance circles. My father walks backwards better than most walk forward— so whenever he sewed his steps into the living room...
by IB | Apr 21, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Jigsaw A family photo, blown up and chopped into a thousand pieces then tipped on the table. We found our eyes first, as they swirled through fragments of black jumper, dark pine trees and an orange sunset sky. The jigsaw became a winter tradition, and...
by IB | Apr 13, 2025 | Word & Image
Cross Hot Burns Deborah Nash lives in Brighton, S.E. England. She studied visual art in Nanjing, China and Bourges, France, and now works as a freelance journalist. Her short stories appear in Litro, The Mechanic Institutes’...
