Tim Brookes

      Flock In the charity shop I try on a coat flocked with fake shearling, shaved-soft almost: fibres fired onto plastic to fool the wrist. At home I snap it. A dust of fur lifts, hangs, then drifts onto the draining board, the bulb, the bruised...

Kim Waters

      Letter to L You’re a character, a Roman numeral, an internet meme. Descendant from a peasant’s crook or cattle prod, you’re the twelfth letter of the alphabet, but missing from a baker’s dozen. You’re in every email I ever wrote, appearing in...

Sylvie Jane Lewis

      Comfort Queens “As usual, we are joined today by about nine or ten gay men who follow me, and a legion of young queer women with anxiety who find me comforting.” Trixie Mattel, via a Livestream Being quiet and easily tired by being...

Maryam Alsaeid

      A Prayer for Rima With echoes of the Arabic lullaby ‘yalla tnam’ Maybe after your bath— you will sit for a moment, the towel will hold you close like a quiet prayer— يا رب، نامت الطفلة، يا رب خلّيها تنام Ya Rab, the child sleeps, oh Lord, help her...