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      Liminal   Before he died, he saw his parents more and more, not that it bothered him, he said, there was nothing untoward going on: they didn’t gesture him to follow nor loom at his bed in the care home; they went about their ordinary lives,...

      Neuroleptics There goes the man with the paper face stretching his arms for takeoff, his cloak flapping  open for flight. He knows every twig in these wooded grounds. He can float above every tree. Above him red squirrels chase each other across...

      Imagining Green   The leaf is the paradigmatic form of openness: life capable of being traversed by the world without being destroyed by it (The Life of Plants. A Metaphysics of Mixture. Emanuele Coccia.) I was imagining green light like two...

      Tawny Owls I’ll take your owl, Paul, and Sylvia’s and raise you two, that call across the meadow on August nights; male and female: one twit, the other twoo. I won’t say which is which. No, I haven’t seen them, haven’t risked my bald pate, don’t...

      Newgale You stand at shoreline watching. Unaware the tide advances, despite decades of life by the sea, you dip your toes in icy Atlantic swell. But decay has arrived as a rip tide – pulls you under, drags you out into the bay. The men throw a...

      Plantation blues Morning light is warm quicksilver on the desert plateau of the high Monadhliath, bare stone and scoured earth the seed of man and winter. The upward flow of pines is genesis not rewilding, redcoat drumbeats on the drove road still...

      Changeling Away over the hills the girl’s father is shapeshifting - grown grey and yellow, wheezing against the pillow’s soft sink, feet that have polkaed and gavotted, tangoed and waltzed vaulting him now, into the submission of the couch. Across...

      the agony of the everyday that blue light these damp pavements will shine and move other people when you’re no longer a memory     p.a. morbid runs The Black Light Engine Room Press. Middlesbrough Historian & Outsider Artist. Married...

      Alphabets of the Human Heart in Languages of the World Ba-dumm, ba-dumm, bam-bam, bank bank, bum-búm, bum-búm, daṛak daṛak, deg-deg, dhuk-puk, doef doef, gup-gup, gup-gup, küt küt, lab-dab, pal-pal, pēng pēng, pil-pil, pilpiri-palpara,...

      the landlady  she moved into the living room so casually no one protested. it’s a chill household, she had said. I lived by it even as the first livid blotches of mould spread up the kitchen wall and death took residence on the couch. I could...

      dis)connecting do not disturb is a phone setting and a feeling as I set out the evening breeze biting my cheek is an invitation I walk until I remember how to find shapes in clouds until I can smell the sweat on my upper lip until I can really...

    Maungawhau Fed up with sitting dormant I shove my legs into compression tights double knot laces and leave the house for the first time in weeks. At the base of Mount Eden I muster the strength to move through its shadow. Pounding against the hard ground...

      Present Good love is not always easy.  It is driving rain and wind A small vessel in stormy seas Drowning Good love is not always hard.  It is melting chocolate in the sun A slow, languorous heat Rising Good love is not always certain. It is a...

      vii) spray paint                    (Canto from Larger work – PHYLACTERY) accidentally italian again nozzle flecked in tricolore borrowed back                 from the streets of bristol                 and new york grubbier somehow embossed with...

A Mother's Love: a contrapuntal Jade Prince is a 21 year old, recent BA English Literature with Creative Writing graduate. Over the last two years, she has fallen in love with constraint and experimental poetry. In particular, she enjoys pairing strange forms with...

      12.10 At precisely ten minutes past 12am, a poem was written. The location being less precise, we can say that somewhere on this, our dear planet, one poem was birthed. Pushed through crimson, through a prism of metaphor, through cranial channels...

      Timing I’m growing as slowly as             Pangea broke             apart invisibly, but                                                        Colossally I won’t be recognisable, save for the jagged                           edges of 2 lives...