Helen Frances

      Grief I wasn’t in, so she left me a note. Each word a tangle of broken ends, some oddly linked to the next with a ghost trail of ink from her rose-gold marbled fountain pen, a rare indulgence she’d bought herself. I think I’m about finished, the...

Suzanne Scarfone

      Box of Disquiet truth be told part of me has lived in this box of disquiet for years and years let’s see one still summer’s day two of my teeth came out baby teeth plop plop ripe pears falling from my mouth I gasped and flushed poked my finger in...

 Julia Webb

      Essay on Craft Because a woman woke up and her head had become a flower. Because the images were placed in a way that pleased the eye. Because if she’s not careful the scalpel can cut. Because once a woman is glued down it’s difficult for her to...

 Freyr Thorvaldsson

      Oxygen eaters A candle eats away at air At the same rate that we do Dripping on glossy glassware The wick swallows and chews Exhaling whispers of CO2 At the same rate that we do Familiar tempo, parallel breath Wax runs and the flame exudes Eighty...

Konstandinos (Dino) Mahoney 

      Box A teacher guides his pupils past headless marble torsos, dusty cabinets of tiny Attic coins, pockmarked stylobates, to a large clay pithos, Said to be the original Pandora’s Box, he tells them, reading from his Lonely Planet Guide. They stare...

Maggie Brookes-Butt

      Yoga For you, with your toddler bendiness, the squat is a natural, easy position while I hurt-strain, thinking of miners crouched outside their front doors on terraced streets, practising every day in the cramped conditions of their work until the...