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Hands Clasped by Alice Godliman
We hear rumours of her journey as she flies towards us through Europe. Her cloak covers towns first, the busy ports, then it grows outwards from the seams of main roads. It will cover us all in time. Father Matthew says it is Pestilence sent from above, punishing us for…
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On a Bench by the Waters of Oblivion by E. Samples
I sit beside you, strangerAnd waitA once-filled mindMy black sunflower seedsNow half sown Introductions are necessary I’m terrible with namesWe met before, you sayThe hillside, sanctuary Classroom, dinner tableCreek—To name a few Muted voicesScreen-strained lonelinessAnxiety and doubtWindows shutteredI drain the glass and wipeWater droplets from my mouth I don’t answer you, strangerAnd…
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Racing a Fever Dream for Pinks by E. Samples
Maybe I should consult the devil. Maybe I should embrace world-revvingnightshade sonnets until clovenharmonies etch fountain pen rhythmsup and down my spine. Maybe I should appreciate unaccomplished blank space;Ride the empty page instead of enslaving meter and phrase.Maybe I should idle-out, back to the ground and exhaust the weight of symbols…
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Hart by Kate Garrett
‘…one of the most secret princes of the world …capable of bitter hatred.’ – Sir Henry Wotton on James VI History remembers your fondness for unwatered wine, androgynous men; your wit, dry as stable straw. Somehow soft, despite an arrowhead intellect and a tendency to fling insults pulled from the dirt.But here in one…
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Dark Passenger by Ryan Norman
Crumpled on the floor againlike a sad verse struck through,blacked out, never to be read aloudI crawl into bed, legs heavy from carrying the weight of worries.I’ve lost track of time again—bury my head in a pillow, hiding in its soft folds, stroking my own cheek, breathing into pain hard and…
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Prevention is better than the cure by Kate Garrett
“I think you take me to be a witch myself.”– James VI & I, Daemonologie I. His birth chased death from his mother’s rooms, delivered from Mary’s womb as summer turned its first corner outside the little window, warmth of morning spinning up steep wynds and closes. Here is the newborn prince, his face tilted…
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Kicking Up A Stink by Aviva Treger
It began with a fire. ‘Paranormal activity’, he said. ‘That’s what started it – ghosts, demons’.The phone line crackled and I held my breath. I heard him tut, and sigh, then say,‘Or maybe you think he died of Spontaneous Human Combustion?’. There was a pause. ‘I’m not trying to scare you’, he…
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To Waste a Whole Heart in One Kiss by Carys Crossen
She waited for him. After the dust had drifted down to lie undisturbed, after Arthur had been borne to Avalon and Excalibur flung into the Lake, when Camelot’s glory had begun to fade and the city diminished into a Saxon vassal state, Guinevere waited for Lancelot. He would return for…
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Every Inch by Juliette van der Molen
one last letter, addressedto my royal brother, one lastsignature to append. i scratchwords slow, deliberate as thefeet shuffle and men mumbleoutside the door that separatesme from what they believe mustbe certain doom. suddenlyrushed though they haven takenyears to take measure, to findthe exact coordinates to placeme in the careful square…
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First Blot by Juliette van der Molen
two treaties1,two sides,three deeds & signatures forthem all, allowedby the future queen-dauphin,everyone’s docile little paragon. in the beginning, it is loveand light and never the possibilitythat anything could turn dark,here in the glittering courtof my adoptive country. how is it you say there isa blot, the first blot(of many) on my…
Take Us On A Journey To Somewhen
