Catherine O’Brien

    Let that love show When all is quiet save for the silky rustling of an autumn breeze let that love show. When your patience is darkness-dappled and as weary as an exhausted scholar let that love show. When you’re disappointed to learn that trestle...

Marianne Habeshaw

    Red Kite Mrs. Hooping helped with my coursework since Mr. Smith lived on pizza boxes. Found rocking a dead pigeon on the cardboard, now he’s back at his mum’s, auditioning to be a postman. Witnessed a Red Kite in my underwear drawer from our...

Fergal O’Dwyer

      I want to wake up like they do in films   no puffy eyes that blink to find the dawn foreclosed again behind those wretched blinds you bought but sunlight streaming in through impractically curtainless windows; my skin, made-up in golden...

Hattie Graham

      Poem for my Father Come away Simon, away to the woods with us. Leave your shoes by the stairs and follow our feet to the bridge. The dog is scared of the burn so won’t bite your fingers when you cross. We can sleep in the treehouse and wait for...

George Parker

    In My Hand I Hold Two Truths I make broth, feel odd wiping it off your face moments after swiping through bodies, preferences, dates. Sunset-orange forget-me-nots mar the napkin cloth I dab along your stubbled jaw. If forget-me-nots bloomed blood orange....