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  Jaime Lock is a poet from the Isles of Scilly. They have poems published by fourteen poems, Under the Radar, Signal House Edition, Broken Sleep Books and others. Simon Maddrell has appeared in AMBIT, The Moth, The Rialto, Poetry Wales, Stand, Under the Radar...

          Helen A Porter grew up in Scotland before moving to America as a teenager. Porter is openly queer, and was exposed to the beauty behind the nature, culture, and stories of individuals Helen met along the way that continue to...

      buffoon after Anne Carson in no way, at all, was i supposed to - fuck you - enough months - and pints later - a conversation about bishop - air thick like gelatine - we both knew - we could get away with it - like a theft from a corner shop - a...

    hay sometimes i miss those carefree days of driving around listening to crucial conflict and fucking in funeral homes so i dream of you calling my name in an airport   Sophie Kearing is a writer of stabby words but also warm wishes. Her work has...

    Oracles Each year I am looking for signs, a white pebble, a dropped feather, shy shadow’s shape, red thread burning, how the beans fall in bright patterns, a walnut’s voyage in a silver bowl, sailing a birthday candle through night waters. I must hold...

    KILNER BANK Convolvulus strangles cow parsley and nightshade. Its pure white trumpets plead: Forgive us! Look how lovely we are! Behind the birch trees the hum of industry is punctured by the staccato clack of squabbling magpies. Off the track there’s an...

    Payday Mid-afternoon and the streets smell of petrichor; people spilling out of pubs, crowding to smoke cigs in the early spring sunshine. I am alone, again. All my friends live thousands of miles away. I am closer to the people who are not near me...

  Planet Nine You talk to me intently of black holes. I slip my hand into yours, unnoticed. You are absorbed in thoughts astronomical. I am stealing time. Swallowed by a constellation of brighter stars and suddenly you are on the cusp of the cusp of a place where...

    Night Market   When the night curtain falls, the crowd start to assemble as if drawn by magnets, as if answering a scared call. Neon lights go up along the narrow pavements, illuminating the concentrating faces of food-sellers. Under boiling noodle...

      Ambresbury Banks Early March, after weeks of rain: between a young oak’s leggy roots, a cushion of dun, desiccated leaves. Shadows of other trees all point towards me like the black lances in Uccello’s Battle of San Romano. I sip hot coffee from...

      Burglaries You have been burgled. While you were out with the dog, a burglar made best use of that yawning kitchen keyhole to spook through tracelessly. They were a ghost, floating through your house, with all the time in the world to inventory...

      Cemetery A pity the door is locked. You have to climb in over the fence, which is low in places. A large cemetery, matzevot crushed by falling trees - Tripadvisor review I step through missing bricks. Green graves cluster on a rise under a yew....

      Woof Woof She came growling at me like a wolf, muttering moonlight out of her throat and blood is the future in my skin. No more good girl. She kept moving in her frightened threats, unstable pain swallowed in an unspeakable way. Like me with my...