by IB | May 23, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
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...
by Kate Birch | May 22, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
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...
by IB | May 21, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
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...
by Helen Ivory | May 20, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
/ 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...
by Helen Ivory | May 19, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Then tragedy makes children of us all and in that last moment the dead shrug, shake off their boots, shuffle off jackets and shirts, watch astounded as their dresses grow and drop to their feet. Their bags, their glasses, car keys and phones...
by Helen Ivory | May 18, 2025 | Featured, Prose
What Happens After the Aftershock? In February 2024, I took an Uber to a bridge in London. I was planning to die. Instead, I got out and walked to St Paul’s, where I was detained and sectioned. I remember the shame. The dizziness. I remember thinking I’d...
