Susan Jane Sims

      Waiting For Mark After you died, someone asked: What was it like in those final sixteen days waiting for your son to die? I was not waiting. Wanting, yes. Hoping, yes. For more days. Finding joy in small things, a game of Camel Cup, your favourite...

Jane Frank

      Writing is a Little Door after Susan Sontag I imagine returning to the house. Furniture is piled up in the rain— the ideas that won’t fit. Dreams can’t squeeze through every opening, especially when they’re big, or floral or velvet with high backs...

Ilias Tsagas

          Ilias Tsagas is a Greek poet writing in English as a second language. His poems have appeared in journals like: AMBIT, Under the Radar, Streetcake, Poetry Wales, SAND, FU Review Berlin, Tokyo Poetry, Plumwood Mountain and elsewhere....

Jim Paterson

      A Curse Shove it, that farewell and the sky shimmering with frost and the waves wrecking on the shore I don’t care if it is basalt by the furious firth hard on hard. And as for the getting there! A mis-shapen day when the sun was unintelligible...

Philip Rush

      Rolled-Up Sleeves Tom’s advice, mind you, was to drink hot chocolate last thing at night on a garden bench beneath the moon. So, we sat there. Our eyes grew accustomed to monochrome and to the unusual grammars of darkness. A hazel-nut or two fell...