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

            Clíodhna Bhreatnach So     you’re leaving us    I’m going to miss            your smiley face in the corridor      it’s been                       a pleasure         So what is ityou write your poetry about    tell us            your inspiration       Oh    beautiful                       subject        Time    which isn’t linearit’s circular    I believe that     It comes            back to us       Like music      We’ve                       been alive before and we’ll liveagain      Just when you think it’s all over            then you’re really beginning                       Years ago I would have loved to … Continue reading Paul, who is carrying a ladder and on his way to fix something

            Amanda Auchter In the dream where my mom knows what day it is,she can identify the president, too. I walkthrough the back door of our old house, hear the dog click across the tile, the tv on so loudI have to yell hello. I throw my purseon the counter littered with pill bottles and bills, the … Continue reading My Mom Calls Me By My Right Name

            Nawel Abdallah We want to look at red roses  and not think of bloodstains.  We want to enjoy a scene  of summer breeze gently wavering white bed sheets  and not think of having to say last goodbyes  to families wrapped in white shrouds.  We want the grass to grow quietly,  green like heaven,  not dusty like tanks.  We want to raise our heads to … Continue reading Simple Things

            Nadia de Vries And I paint him taupeBecause he’s not my favorite How does it feel, being plain? I paint him taupe. Make him say hiTo orange, blue and green I want to see taupe cry I know that taupe knowsThat he’s nothingWithout grey and brown Nadia de Vries is a poet from Amsterdam, the … Continue reading Misery’s Garnet

            Toby Campion cher coming last in a cher look-alike competition squatting beside a ford fiesta outside the auditorium berating her hairline in the wing-mirror someone who’s never met cher presenting cher with an A3 poster of her face and a permanent marker cher flossing cher missing a bus someone who’s never met cher telling cher that’s so cher a man putting … Continue reading sheesh—