Luís Costa there is not muchI can tell, truly.I am swimming with my clothes onand it may appear that I’m breathingbut I’m not.I’ve just gotten used to the usualnessof it all. the misplaced sadness,a karaoke booth (the lights are blue),my coffee table becoming a graveyardfor fish-shaped soy saucecontainers. there is, of course, the glaciergrowing in … Continue reading elegy

            Sue Rose א (ah-lef) King over breath, markof silence in the line,aleph is mighty, mute,giving nothing away.Shaped from the oxin the fields, boxyhead, taciturn stare,it wears its crownof horns lightly, seals airin the universe, heatin the year, lungsin the body. It’s soft,this god letter, a breezekissing the scriptit precedes with life.It splays like the Xmarking … Continue reading Aleph

            Mary Mulholland It was not long after water flooded your flat.jewelled the walls, like there was no roof –the builders said leaks always cause most damage.You'd had enough and moved to America,as if you'd be dry there. A year later I flew overfor your wedding. You fell for her becauseshe had a dog in her … Continue reading Engaged

            Spencer Wood the slow burlesqueof a Hull coastalsummer all flatand bright peelinga silk layer onlyto replace it withfleece we walkour desires alongthe edge pastmosaic saltmarsha closed lighthouseand deep gorsestrung with veilsuntil we reachthe pointwhere one of uswants the seaand the other staysamong the wrackand does the shorethink it’s donesomething wrongwhen the tidegoes out andhow longwill … Continue reading Spurn

            Julia Webb (1) that vile orange squash / mum stored on the floor / of the kitchen cupboard / the neon sludge of sediment / collecting at the bottom / of each ridged bottle / its artificial taste / like battery acid / orange but not orange / panic in a glass (2) as the … Continue reading as orange as

            Natalie Shapero What did we do to the ocean to make ithurl itself on the rocks like that,no one to jump in after it—                              Water fills me with horror.               PAINTING FILLS ME WITH HORROR AS WATER DOES A RABIDDOG (Claude Monet). I feel awful                              about comparing myself               to the ocean. I don’t have nearly that … Continue reading Bad Weather, Pourville

            Aliyah Begum The headscarf is no longer in the customisation menu soI load the game long after my friends leave, increase sheepwith wheat, say Bismillah before sheep become meat,play faith or make believe. Is my sincerity rendered hollow?In Heaven, there is a tree where you can ride for a centuryand still remain in its shade’s … Continue reading On Not Eating the Pork in Minecraft

            Nazaret Ranea Sunday, after four,when the entry is free. I look at this heavy headon an even heavier pillowand refuse to believethat when you diedyour eyes weren't open. No, Anna must have closed them. Later that day Kramskoi cameto make a drawing.Your half-smile, faint.Your hair was still growing. It’s Sunday afternoon,but no one is here.I … Continue reading Dostoevsky’s death mask at the Russian Museum of Málaga

            Howie Good Whoever they were that took the woman and the kid, they left the dog. I spoke to him just as I would a person, but he was still a dog. He was 105 in human years. I had to carry him up and down the stairs despite my bad back. He showed his … Continue reading In Human Years

            Jo Bratten NASA says the moon is shrinking but I’m not going to write a poem about it.  Its iron core is cooling and its surface is creasing. A grape, they say, shrivelling into a raisin.  This morning I woke early and walked quickly. The sarcococca filled the dark with honey.  Light was born again above the clouds. Something … Continue reading Despite what its appearance might suggest the moon still has a hot interior