Two poems by Will Harris

  Eyewitness Travel In Shepherds Bush library, now an annex of Westfield, a man in a corner seat leans over two Dorling Kindersley books —Eyewitness Travel—and with near-complete, near-sighted reverence (the kind you’d give to something rare or precious) turns and scans each glossy page. I’m trying to believe it’s for a trip he’s planning, but the stains on his ripped jumper give me the … Continue reading Two poems by Will Harris

Two poems by Maria Taylor

The Landfills of Heaven are clean as icebergs. There are Everests of wedding rings and silver bedsteads that sing like tuning forks. There are green, translucent hills made of empty champagne bottles and crystal flutes waiting for the blue lips of ghosts. There’s a hum marking the perimeter, the low, sustained notes of cello strings, guitars and violins, teased from the hands of their keepers. … Continue reading Two poems by Maria Taylor

A poem by Gill McEvoy

    Kingfisher, Bachelors Bridge, Caldy Valley, Chester Perfect, this bridge, for leaning on the dipped curves in its steel patterned with dragonfly and frog. Perfect for watching the reflection of three willow trees: ridged bark pleats green water. Perfect for the bed of yellow flags in the mud-marsh at its edge, for a Labrador to leap into its pool. Exactly right for that rare … Continue reading A poem by Gill McEvoy

‘Bus’ by Theresa Muñoz

Bus A piece of your childhood never confessed. And I confess I heard it from Dad. Those humid months the family home was a broken down bus. Ditched beside a graffitied wall. Three brothers and three sisters. You the youngest. Mostly I imagined the evenings. Streetlight warming the greasy windows. Doors rattled by cars. Each kid curled on a bench seat, inhaling leather. Grandpa, a … Continue reading ‘Bus’ by Theresa Muñoz

‘Fox on the garden shed roof’ by Fiona Moore

  Fox on the garden shed roof Considering the insolence the bold-as-brass of you your burdening with cliché how your look is purpose clothed in sand-red fur (like grass discoloured, peed-on! when you took possession of my territory) I stand firm and watch. Which is like war between us, kitchen sink to roof and eye to eye we find that nature does abhor a vacuum. … Continue reading ‘Fox on the garden shed roof’ by Fiona Moore

‘Formica’ by Matthew Stewart

  Formica An ochre dusk through the window, stewed apples sighing from the hob and slippers squeaking back and forth on the lino. Mum’s become Gran, Son now Dad, but a boy still plays at the same Formica table. This kitchen’s hub, its ersatz knots are giving off a perfect shine.   (published in The Rialto, Issue 70 and in Inventing Truth)     Matthew … Continue reading ‘Formica’ by Matthew Stewart