‘Please Do Not Touch the Walrus or Sit on the Iceberg’ by Caleb Parkin

  Please Do Not Touch the Walrus or Sit on the Iceberg           Horniman Museum, Summer 2019 So, I clamber up, on top of the fibreglass plinth, rise from the chevrons of the parquet floor as though it melted into thick-cold waves and I emerge, triumphant and substantial, hear my epic belly boom on the fake ice, hands slapping flatly on … Continue reading ‘Please Do Not Touch the Walrus or Sit on the Iceberg’ by Caleb Parkin

‘Gravity’ by Alan Buckley

  Gravity by Alan Buckley The aerialist swings up and out, beyond the proscenium arch. She reaches the dead point of pure weightlessness, hair rippling outwards, lets go of the corde volante. We catch our breath: for a heartbeat body and rope are floating apart, electric air between them. Later, she’ll smile – Whatever you choose to think, I cannot fly. I fall professionally – … Continue reading ‘Gravity’ by Alan Buckley

‘When I Was A Boy’ by Liz Berry

  I was a boy every week-day afternoon the year I was seven. Hitched my school skirt into shorts, flattened my hair with a black ballet band, wore my brother’s elasticated tie. I had many different names: sometimes Paul or Steven (boy next door), sometimes Dean (rough) or Jean Paul (exotic), here on exchange. I didn’t bother with chit chat, got straight down to the … Continue reading ‘When I Was A Boy’ by Liz Berry

‘Fox’s Eye’ by Amy Key

  Fox’s Eye Only take away the very dead, mouldering the air. Keep those that shiver cracker-dry, their throats ceramic and petals pearl. Let them loom more softly against the wall. As everything in this room has gone brittle: the pipes knuckle-crack equations, flakes trim the skirting, butterflies fidget off mantles of dust. In my mother’s room, there was a fox’s eye, billowing and caramel, … Continue reading ‘Fox’s Eye’ by Amy Key