Mofiyinfoluwa O.

    palm trees on the edge of farewell they are gathering seashells. the boy is shirtless and the girl is wearing a black dress that exposes broad shoulders soaking up the morning light. her hair tumbles a fiery orange down the length of her back. the same...

Chris Emery

    Truer Knowing nothing of him now except this: a log of sickness upon sickness embarrassing to dream. The boatyards west of reasonable shipping. The wars guessed at out beside the jetty – he abstains from something, shining buttons. But the rains keep...

T. N. Kennedy

    Creators Where your ancestor collected bottles amber dark as bog-steeped river water swaddling them in peachy doll flesh putty studding them with countless periwinkles gorse yellow, sorrel orange, figwort brown lamp stands to cast a circle of low light...

Mariah Whelan

      St Ann’s Square Manchester, 23rd May 2017 Because I cannot show you what is at the centre of all this I will lay language up to its edge, walk its edges the way I moved through the back of the crowd too afraid to go in. I had to shade my eyes from...

Marissa Glover

    What Might Have Been There is a small white house high on a green hill just south of Scotland, an office bright with books and a window overlooking Magdalene, and somewhere on a dirt road between endless pastures of strong red fescue, is a man on a...

Cherry Doyle

      / on the days / blood rushes at the corner of a nail / you cannot keep your jumper off the door handle / table tackles leg / expect the bruise in two days’ time / pansies nodding in speckles of rain / dish en route from dishwasher to shelf thinks...