John Greening

On Stage in a home-made model theatre, c.1967 Glued to your block, in paint and ink you wait for Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life to stop. Smell of hardboard and hot bakelite. The lino curtain’s ready to go up. At which, the straightened coat hanger is shoved and on you...

Anna Bowles

      Airplane Mode   Nothing bad can happen on a plane. Engine fires, earache, hijackers; but no new grief. The heart is contained. Cupped in the silence, sorrow makes truce with the green lands below. In the regulate hum of the aircon, the news...

Kirsty Fox

Winged     Kirsty Fox is a writer and artist specialising in ecopoetics. She writes lyric essays and poetry, and has had work published by Apricot Press, Arachne Press, and Streetcake Magazine. She has a Masters in Creative Writing and is currently studying...

Jason Ryberg

      The Conversations of Ghosts Sometimes I’d swear that the ancient box fan I’ve hauled around with me for years is a receiver for the conversations of ghosts not unlike the way hats I’ve bought at vintage shops still hold trace elements of the...

Peter Wallis

All House Holds Dead in a chest, are folded matinee jackets, bonnets, bootees and mitts. Tissue sighs like the sea at Lowestoft, always Third week in August Once stuffed with baby breaths, the back bedroom holds only a tallboy with stashed school reports, ties without...

Amanda Bell

  Spindles   We clipped a window through the currant, sat on folding chairs with keep-cups, wrapped in blankets as we yelled through the prescribed two-metre gap. Then took to mending – darning socks and patching favourite denims, exchanging threads in...