Stephen Chappell

    Without a Following If you could call that friend, the special one, the one you always love and know loves you, if you could and she were not also dead, she would be the one to let you go. Even so, let go, even without her you can do this, alone, if you...

Marius Grose

      Presence of Trees Until the dead, sucked from leaf mould graves are rising in forest sap, to make connections inside strange green brains nothing will be crossed in, nothing will be crossed out until the dead poke holes in the sky with their bones...

Andrew Keyman

      what you mean to me wiping tears with drink coasters in soho revolving around how you’ll both leave and stay men in the window you kissing my jaw by the pints i didn’t drink by the ashtray asking when the arrogance of thinking that...

Chrissy Banks

      The pink and the brown   So many times I walked head down   half asleep along that ordinary road to school until the day I saw the cherry trees sick of standing around bored and invisible all at once dressed up sinewy brown limbs embellished with...

Anne Donnellan

      Lent As if it wasn’t enough cycling three miles to eight o’clock mass on cold white mornings I stayed in the chapel after the final blessing too early for class in the Colaiste I filled in time around the shadowy stations of the cross the...