Sim Pereira-Madder Sim Pereira-Madder is a London-based poet and member of the Southbank New Poets Collective studying for an MA in Writing Poetry. An Obsidian Foundation alum and Poetry School intern, his work appears in Magma, Propel Magazine, Ink Sweat & Tears, La Piccioletta Barca, and Wet Grain. You can find him on instagram at … Continue reading Caballo

            Janet Rogerson began in an area behind the two peopleand Paris grew incrementally around them.It fell soft in the arms of a dancing couplein a cruel city, at a viperous time, when kissing—by them—was prohibited. It moved along a vertical line then a horizontal line pulling into a station and stopped for the longest time among overgrown brambles. It … Continue reading The kiss

            Mymona Bibi when hands were smallerthey fit في جيبك they would seekjoy and knowledge في جيبك fingers spread outgrasping dust في جيبك disappointment, shameand frowns bruised wrists في جيبك screams, cries and howlsfilled the space في جيبك when those hands grewthey feared themselves في جيبك they ran, legs achingfrom the weight في جيبك and returned … Continue reading In your pocket / في جيبك

            Michelle Szobody        OPHELIA:                           Th’ expectation and rose of the fair state,                           The glass of fashion and the mould of form,                           Th’ observ’d of all observers, quite, quite down!       HAMLET:                           And do not spread the compost on the weeds,                           To make them ranker. Like sweetbriar, I blushand ramble against the garden walls.            Like bindweed, I arc upin a childish fret of throats. My … Continue reading Sweetbriar Rose & Bindweed

            Annie Baker Everything is everythingas you'd know if youbothered to answer my phone callsI do not call you for the love of calling but that I might impart something. Something like a stick? Thatpart of the tree which can no longer speak to the other? You take one end of the work andI’ll take the other and … Continue reading Turn-out

            Nancy Kangas Once I hung on my wall a bear's head - not real, but painted plaster. I liked its grin.  Once I bought a thrift store fur coat so plushI thought it a miracle of polyester.  One whole year later I lifted the lining.There lay the hide real fur attaches to.  Once I herded sheep … Continue reading Bunch of Animals

            Rosie Hadden The tall man brought with him a stone house,a red horse, two black dogs. He did not know she’d been painting him in gouache and gold leaflong before he met her. She’d conjured him when her hearth was empty and the moon dark.Placed him on a sea in a small wooden boat. At … Continue reading Love song for the tall man

            Anne Berkeley She is at her easel, dibbling a brush in the turps.The easel is between us, like a mirror I can’t see through.Sit still, she says, and begins anotherfurious dab dab dab of colour. I am being squeezed from tubes of burnt sienna, lead whiteand she is cross with me for not coming clear.I’m … Continue reading The sitting

            Nadine El-Enany after Paula RegoI was by the window.When I tell the storyI am always the one by the window.I’m never the girl on the bed. I’m never kneeling.I’m never holdingmy nose or my breath.I’m never between his legs. The sun is shining,the birds are singing,the water warms in its jugand I am by the … Continue reading The Family

            Alex Mepham Alex Mepham is a writer and translator based in York, UK. Alex has received a Northern Writers Award, and has poems and translations appearing in Magma, The Stinging Fly, and Modern Poetry in Translation, among others. Website: amepham.carrd.co.