Rabbit on the Promenade in homage to JS Harry Umwelt of responses and in the substrates below a silt of muted action. There are inaudible gasps bouncing in echo chambers …
Apologies, I forgot you exist (Fleur Beaupert)
On the verge of this sheer pink dress fits my childhood fantasy glass slipper | Inside it I’m so brown I’m clear White gold un dress | B(l)onded into celibacy …
Trainwreck (Miguel Jacq)
Worlds away in the grey harbour of St Nazaire my second cousin reveals railway tracks encased inside shipyard walls — an over-engineered defence of resolute rust; the only steadfast structure …
The Electric Journal (David Stavanger)
Day I become ‘treatment-resistant’ to drugs. They advise me I would be better served with other recreational pursuits. Days They are talking up the effectiveness of brain damage. I recall …
Bivouac (Charlotte Guest)
The terms of our arrangement are revised every three days. You trace my bones, protruding through my skin, as we recap the clauses, their causes, and intended effects. Let’s press …
Exodus (David Adès)
You hold a catacomb of memories. I wait outside your door to catch fragments. How much can any of us know of what preceded? We interrogate doors we cannot pass …
How to live in a world that is burning (Omar Sakr)
1. there are many kinds of vision. 2. the nurse said getting glasses has been on her to-do list since 2008 It’s a long list but also, the world is …
Winter (K W George)
A man in a black suit on a white windswept beach. Wind snatching an umbrella, turning it into a batwing. Hands so cold and trembling fingers don’t work. Tingly feeling …
VOICES OF DIASPORA: (Mark William Jackson, Angelene Karas and Eunice Andrada)
(edited by Ramon Loyola & Michele Seminara) Proof of Life By Mark William Jackson If asked for proof of identity I can pull a card from my sacred wallet that …
Mad Poets Workshop Winners: The Wollongong Writers Festival
Spinning By Kyra Thomsen I spin myself into a frenzy legs lurching in and out like a spider building a web unravelling my inner-silk exposing my underbelly. The tea is …