Gary Akroyde

      Cracks in the Concrete We searched for it through the tarmac in every rain-bruised sky in dark Pennine shadows where great mills spewed out ringlets of ghost-grey fog we learnt to see Yorkshire mist in charcoal technicolour Along the canal with...

Nathan Curnow

      A Survey of Radial Velocities in the Zodiacal Dust Cloud -the PhD title of Brian May from Queen I like to think it’s a story about himself and Einstein floating in zero gravity, Albert sailing through the capsule toward his drifting pipe, Brian...

Paul Short

      Midnight Swingball Sleep. Elusive as lucid dreams. Closed eyes teem wotsit-orange, spiderweb scarlet & thatch-brown body      jerks                  like      a swingball. Conscience and subconscious flailing paddles back forward|forward back...

Ash Bowden

      Composting Out again with the pitchfork churning compost into the old green bin, stinking and silent as an ancient earthen vat. Here, dirt makes no distinction between trench beds and the twirling earth. Onion shavings conspire to life by bringing...

Mallika Bhaumik

      In search of a tawaif’s tale (Dilli love) This is not a frilly, mushy love letter to a city whose allure lies in defying all labels and holding the mystery key to a man’s heart, though none has ever been able to lay an absolute claim...

Jena Woodhouse

      The Kelpie Around midnight, the hour when pain reasserts its dominance, a voice behind the curtain screening my bed from the next patient’s: an intonation penetrating abstract thoughts of distance, time-lapse; tempered by the Haar, the briny...