Laura Fyfe

      Mountain Rescue How do we pull ourselves back when we’ve nothing to hold on to? Find a way clear or stay? Wait. Song will arrive again from scrub, from burn, from leaf. We feel the weight of hope, are shocked to life by the rawness of...

David Belcher

      How to not exist Allow yourself to be elbowed aside become a non-person an avoider of lingering looks Ask how can I best be ignored? foster a gnawing sorrow howling complaints to imaginary friends In portraits your eyes should be nebulous stare at...

Simon Williams

      I Want to Become a weasel, in a sleeky, twisty body, all eyes and teeth like a deadly zip. I would have become a badger in preference, but they have been having a bad time around here, through no fault of their own, shot for being badgers. So...

Zoe Davis

      Secret Society I joined a secret society advertised in the back pages of a magazine. I forget which, but I found it nestled in 8pt font and fancy border between time share apartments in Lanzarote and the commemorative plates. Yours for just three...

Callan Waldron-Hall

      dance dance revolution long weekend ← or ← perhaps ↑ summer holiday → from the back of someone’s car boot ↑ the strange → sweated plastic all pink and blue and folded → arrows stacked and pointing towards themselves↓ like meeting for the first...

Amy King

      Ripe We’re drinking wine in your kitchen, months before the hot oil of my concern begins to spit. I’m telling a story with both hands while you chop garlic, drain another glass. Over dinner we make up theories for the new pint glass squatting in...