“is there something in adopting the voice of a god, but giving him very human qualities and frailties? It turned out that adopting a persona that revolved at once about both being powerful and powerless was a great parallel for exploring subjects like climate change.”
They were stones in a champagne flute,
I was always bound to smash.
But they were there for a while,
hanging on, two faceless punters waiting
for the gag, and then it all slipped out
of me as easily as a giggle. Once is a mistake.
Twice is careless. By the end of it
you could hear a pin drop in my heart.
“What is happening in Iran is heart-breaking, and this poem is testament to that, it is also paying homage to my Father and my Persian heritage, of which I’m so proud.”
A poem by Mark Czanik
Poetry: “unsure about her arrangement: I have /
never seen him in a suit in bed. Thinner, /
longer, he looks so serious with his halo…”
Poetry: “His shirt side-pulled, her rosy palm creams
whipped egg-white and eggplant flesh…”
Poetry: “In the basement we found his tools for separating Siamese Twins…”
Poetry: “She studied the braille / of his back in the / grey before morning…”
Poetry: “My people are people who still smoke cigarettes in bed…”
Poetry: “i love to see you. i want to see you. Sorry, i don’t watch 18 movies. i don’t want that kind of imagery going into my consciousness. ”
Poetry: “nothing is where it’s at / hurry-up i said to the delivery guy / who said urry-up nuffin / & it’s been mine ever since”
Poetry: “in the dream i swallow the bedclothes, drawing them into me like a reverse spirit medium…”
Poetry: You have a rash on your back. /
I think I’m supposed to tell you, / but while you’re asleep I take a picture of your skin
Poetry: Andy scoots past Woolworths and The Amhurst/ dazzles grey building blocks / roller skates tops / of brown brick walls…
Poetry: This country breeds men as dogs, /
Barking and barking, / Waiting for their next attack…
Poetry: By now, you must have heard his legends. / You abide in his empire. / In the kingdom of the rising star / He rose from a small bowl of hot bat soup…
Poetry: The house dreams of white doves on its roof, / remembers a time of coal fires in hearths…
Poetry: Let a house plant with little leaves dehydrate…
Poetry: I always like to do what I cannot do…
Poetry: If you could slit the black, sucked-in skin, / you’d find her there, alone in a chasmic closet.
Poetry: A Boy Runs / out of his lungs like they are a coat held by a parent at a school gate…
Poetry: Promise explodes from her gossamer wings as she crosses the threshold…
Poetry: birds haunt the train tracks / and the doors beyond doors
Poetry: Feathers dropped by angel wings / light and soft as in your dreams
Poetry: Is there such a thing as a native bird? /
Those original fair weather friends of / Early morning song, emigrants of winter…
Poetry: The house is quiet. / I admire my sharp nails. / I have been invoking wolves.
Poetry:
hello, my name is cupid and i eat
the heartache — out of people for a living
Poetry: Lately I’ve let my hands go weak, I’m not responding / to emails
Poetry: i text you about all my meals so you know what’s inside of me when it’s not you.
Poetry: when we talk about / ourselves post breakup / why do we preserve / our
exceptionalism?
Poetry: … She’d play Scott Joplin’s waltz, ‘Bethena’, its title like her name, so I thought the song was hers …
Poetry: i text you about all my meals so you know what’s inside of me when it’s not you.
Poetry: “Boiled eggs taste better at sea,” she claimed. We dedicated our morning to untangling rods and replacing hooks.
Short Fiction by Sarah Stretton and Gael Bell
I AM THIRSTY and because I am thirsty I need to drink before I can continue blowing your mind. The knowledge you once had about your own imagination required an alarm system with a direct line to the police. The peach you’re eating is so sweet, no wonder it’s
Poetry by Sarala Estruch
Sian Hughes spoke to: Editorial Director, Debbie Taylor; Assistant Editor, Francoise Harvey; and Advertising & Digital Marketing Associate, Laura Steven – to hear their thoughts about creativity, writing, editing, and people that are difficult to work with…
Sogol Sur talks to Aisha Phoenix about her poetry collection Sorrows of the Sun.
‘Katra’ – a poem by Kavita A. Jindal, written in reaction to an apparent ‘honour killing’ of two teenaged girls in India.
Two poems by Cathy Galvin including the title poem from her collection Black and Blue: A Sequence of Sonnets, published by Melos Press last month.
Three poems by Tamar Yoseloff including new work commissioned for the recent Sensing Spaces exhibition at the Royal Academy.
Two poems from Aoife Mannix’s latest collection, Cocktails from the Ceiling, published by The Tall Lighthouse.