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Minority Listen with owl ears. Can you hear the worn words? we stand for the law abiding majority We forgot they kept them stored in loops on broken cassettes the mob needs to be stopped now they unfurl themselves opening like unwelcome flags we will keep putting them...

      woodland creature cool breeze soft damp air meander inspect each leaf specks of sunshine every wrinkle in the bark mushroom cups squashed together wedged and piled high bumpy cosy textures sprout from the sinking green moss the under crunch...

Untitled (1977). Oil on canvas, 19 x 16 inches. After Luchita Hurtado You’ve heard it said that sun ate into the black hills, cut the landscape into rag-cloth and tied the scraps together till all was light and skin. But there’s still the question of your wound,...

The First Drop of Monsoon Rain They wait for the rain Looking up through hats Crisp shorts crack underneath soaked tops A yelp of mother and Flip-flops drag them back indoor Sun blows fire like a dragon and mocks Wind takes a different turn and mock back Stifling sun...

  The Greek Beach Brighter than a full moon on the sea, their acetylene torches cut the night. Scrapped hulls scream as they’re born again. Masked men tear wrecks they joyrode ten years back, cut up truck hoods and corrugated sheets, hammer spent shell cases,...

Amalgamation I’m sitting on the train with you and I’m telling you about my new job. You wouldn’t believe it, I tell you, I’ve fasted for days and pledged my celibacy and still god is no where nearer than he was before. I tell you about the children and how they blow...

All My Friends Are Getting Sick Resisting arrest within six-sided isolation channels neatly stacked. All flesh is woodworked; index finger to thumb pinched in gluey press Blister pack resentment, as gospel song, as holy hands conjure heavy touch. Our future a...

   Nora Nadjarian is a Cypriot poet and writer who has been published in international anthologies. She has won prizes or been commended in international competitions, among others, the Plough Poetry Prize and the Live Canon International Poetry Competition 2020....

      A cross lights up in the distance, a bird skeleton. We roll by faith my inhale dry like the hoarse wind in the lungs of a chainsmoker. Bruised night skies and a flatpack cross over factories. Where does it come from? Does it cascade down on...

  THE SEA IS RISING The radio spits “The world is ending” and I sulk down the stairs half shame faced, mostly hungry. There is a lobster man in the stairwell that scares me -- the door propped ajar like a constantly crooked finger beckoning an unknown hither....

      Field Trip Abercregan 1991 Even the river is dark . . . sun only gains entry through trees makes copper faces that turn as I wade. My net brushes tendrils from transparent cheekbones water framing each elegant pose: I want to put these girls on...

      This Oh So Bearable Lightness    If you should lose this oh so bearable lightness be warned, I shall overturn your day, tear it apart, ensure it ends in the dark. I’ll mould your skin in sodium yellow, load you with enzymes till your gut swells...

      monstering our splintered selves always on the cusp of something terrible waiting for us to enter waiting to enter us inside/outside/inside did you feed them? suddenly we are washed meat and the dress is clean     Jane Ayres...

      The Youth Pastor We are in the church, the space where we swayed, arms high, singing and crying and feeling the power of the spirit pulse through us and around us. He has been circling for weeks, his eyes resting on her when he preaches chastity...

          James Nixon teaches at Arden University and is completing doctoral research into the legacy of Arthur Rimbaud and hauntological poetics at Goldsmiths, University of London. He is a former Royal Holloway Emerging Writer Fellow, a...