Matthew Friday

      The Remote Controlled Car A prized possession of a toy-starved childhood: one of the first remote controlled cars, chrome still gleaming, Dan Dare curves, tucked up in time-capsule coffin from the 1950’s. It appeared by accident, landing...

Paul Connolly

      Leaf On the new-mown playing field, summer-yellowed and ragged, but glistening in the autumn morning, a horse-dung gobbet amid the straw slithered grassily into his glance which focused uncertainties of glancing smoky as rainfall and caught in the...

Kathleen McPhilemy

      One for sorrow St Valentine’s Day and now it is we who are falling one by one all around in spring sunshine is the glitter of a magpie’s eye he fixes me from his perch on the half-wrecked shed auguring this week’s sorrow fresh in black and white...

John Grey

      The Non-Banjo Player If I had a father who was a virtuoso on the banjo, I’d be playing bluegrass now. But he died before he had a chance to teach me anything. So, instead, I learned from this dark hole in my life. Wrote poetry. Plunkety plunk...

Z. D. Dicks

      Skunk I am a creature of urges that longs/ to sidle underside tail to nose/ press into you/ cup chin in my paws pierce sharp eyes through nuzzling my snout flat to merge/ our foreheads/ together/ as a bone heart/ I want to tilt your head/ run my...