Moving Towards The Yes – Tamara Lazaroff

I have never felt it so clearly: the field of independent, potential affirmatives, the ‘yes’, the ‘yeses’ to all of the pleasure and power, freedom, purpose and desire that is mine to choose and discover.

Sustenance – Katy Thornton

Deirdre Murphy died on the 11th June, exactly three years after she should have died of a stroke. She was a despicable old bat, a snobby try hard, an utter sour puss, to name a few of her nicknames.

ONE POEM – James Ducat

My friend the tarot reader repeats,
but she is a little drunk,
translucent fingers unfurling,
while shade, levered by branches,

TWO POEMS – James Carroll

She’s pulling up weeds from the flowerbed
And then starts feeling one tug back,
Wrapping her water grip and dragging her
Through the claggy earth.

ONE POEM – A. Martine

Brown girl: you don’t get a plot twist. Your story’s been penned
with strokes as hollow as they are spiteful

ONE POEM – Ian C. Smith

For those who forego the languor of home ground, that lethal rapine of routine, the most compelling sound of the travelling life might be a ferry’s foghorn throughout the night

ONE POEM – Emily Barker

A drunk girl came up to me in a club last week and told me, yet again, that I look exactly, no, exACtly–Sarah! Come over here! Doesn’t she look exACtly like our Hannah?