my father wanted to recreate the grapes
grow his own over our tiny backyard in the suburbs just outside the city
his vision was three separate plants,
arching and twisting their vines from our neighbor’s garage to ours
Month: February 2021
ONE POEM – Kate LaDew
I swirl my eyes inside the paint
tears forming at the edges of me
Sylvia Townsend Warner’s The Corner that Held Them: Managing Isolation and Becoming the Fabric of a Place – Joanna Mason
January and the New Year are often dreaded in their insistence that we look back on what we have achieved, or what we meant to. This year, the looming of March feels the same, with its marking of the anniversary of the initial lockdown. It is easy to be hard on the progress you have…
ONE POEM – Nicola Maclean
Zones one to three have become a long-distance relationship.
Underground, Hades and his sardine dead
reach their eleventh hour
FLASH FICTION – Kirsty Crawford
I sway and I spin, I smile. Sometimes even in perfect moments, you begin to feel the cold creep in.
THREE POEMS – Susan Moon
My mother packed eggs sunny side up,
Spam slices golden-browned to perfection
tucked into my lunchbox.
COMFORT FOODS // ONE POEM – Lindy Biller
and what does it mean
that her blood still sings
through the Old Quarter
of my veins?
ONE POEM – Alice Foo
The angel comes unbidden
on a Thursday morning,
knocking briskly, handing me
a pineapple and thirteen coral-tinted roses.
Porridge 