Gary Jude

        The Blue Whale (Natural History Museum, London) The mandibles look like the tusks of some gigantic bull elephant bagged by hunters posing for a photograph in pith helmets next to a tent and a wind up phonograph. I reckon the Titanic’s...

David Keyworth

      Keep Going Aldgate had its usual smell of dirty metal and coffee. I jumped from platform to carriage. I squeezed beside a Tate Britain poster, clutched the grab-handle. When I chanced a glance, I saw I was the only one standing. Everyone else was...

Cal O’Reilly

      Portbou After Mary Jean Chan Reminded of my body by the climb I feel the sun, its love and anger, a baked red brick rubbed on the back of my calves. Hiking in a binder was a shit idea, My lungs reach to surface, come short. There’s a sweat mirage...

Lucy Dixcart

      It Starts Before Birth Your tadpole-self, displayed to strangers for a thumbs-up. Then childhood illnesses, faithfully documented. Late-night rows, embalmed in messaging apps. Missteps preserved for future employers. Lost loves, transfigured into...

Anna Mindel Crawford

      Limbo We have our eyes on the chairs, ready for when the music stops. Nobody wants to be in the space where a seat had been before. The limbo stick goes lower again. Those left in, contort their spines to hover in the gap, avoid collapse. I cover...