Chloe Elliott

      grey pennant [as taken from Dulux Paint] speaks easy. vomits up love, that pigeon wing cootie catcher. how easy – run of garlic like a spat-out oyster on bruschetta. I snap the necks of all the men in my life and they fizz. fluster out like the...

Rachel Burns

      Duplex: Horses after Jericho Brown Horse running wild through post code black spots hooves ringing out through sink bin streets echoing through the ginnel, the red brick streets my last address I saw wild horses my last address, horses, horses,...

Tim Relf

      Molehills Moles, my neighbour calls through a hole in the hedge the day we move in – we’ve got moles. I jump up and down on their molehills, he says. Doesn’t do any good, but it makes me feel better. Bin day’s Thursday – black bins this week,...

Gillie Robic 

        Traffic Your name kicks my arse nearly as far as the roundabout where Jenny and Kim lounge on the grass trying to get a tan. Fate gave them their pasty skin, or their parents did anyway, emoting shut-eyed karaoke in the snug of their local...

Ruth Beddow

      Does it hurt? You were lying when you said it wouldn’t – the measles vaccine, the own brand tampon, rows of dead jellyfish on Dyffryn beach. Leaving that place to come home each summer, leaving home at the end of that summer and never coming back....

Julian Brasington

      In a moment of absence The road whispers in a language not heard these seventy years the sea eats only its pebbles and can be heard calling its kinfolk who listen can listen now the sea can be heard and all the candy floss falls strangely silent...