Mark A. Hill

      Marseilles Road -She calls him up- She wills his brush in colour, and chalking, fierce hued flaws, which fall flat on the canvas, She uses a dark outline and replaces his image with cholic fumes. -He doesn’t pick up- He wants to place her in two...

Rebecca Wheatley

      Muscle memory He thought his heart was broken yet the day began again. He couldn’t marvel in the shine of sunsets rising and falling and yet he rose and fell in turn. His hands resigned themselves to tea making and his legs carried him much the...

Katie Beswick

      Can I Kiss You?   We were on my pink love seat skin touching skin I was drunk but longing circled me, like stars from a cartoon head wound I nodded you moved towards me and as I parted my lips little hesitations flew as daggers out my mouth,...

Kate Hendry

      Burning the Years Lay down the worst ones – raze them like swathes of heather on the moor. So what if there’s a dead patch. Remember the havoc unfettered fire makes – flames twirl along the ridge, tumble down the gorge. Unbreathable heat and ash....

Claire Simpson

      Nobody’s daddy If I’d known it was him I wouldn’t have smiled so warmly. But he looked like any other middle-aged man taking a Sunday stroll. It’s funny what time can erase. The passing years had stripped away the parts of him that had once made...

Christtie Jay

      Petition For The Woman Formerly Known As My Mother My Lord, let the record show she remembered everyone else before this. If you must, take her in teaspoons. Temper justice with mercy. Let her forget the wrong men, sharp belts, winters with no oil...