Neither of them talk much in the morning. Somehow things are more difficult in the early hours. She feels more fragile, more lost, more oppressed by the narrow confines and the lack of light.
Category: contemporary society
White Noise Inside the Supermarket: Reading DeLillo during a Pandemic – Michael P. Mazenko
Wandering the aisles of my neighborhood supermarket, the kind of place Don DeLillo once wrote evoked “a sense of replenishment … and fullness of being,” I tread cautiously out of suspicion and respect for the potential “airborne toxic event” that is the coronavirus pandemic. As the world continues to pass milestones of Covid infections, I…
Scheherazade — Lydia Waites
He studies me for a second before facing the road again, his jaw set. My breath is caught in my throat. I clear it, arranging my thoughts. It was just an outburst, a loss of patience: I am safe.
ONE POEM – Aidan Dolbashian
That cow can’t walk. She’s all lame. I won’t touch her hooves.
ART – Manon Parry 
‘a visual stream of consciousness where your imaginary and erratic thoughts come to life.’
TWO POEMS – Patrick Landy
the slow inflections of the wind
where rivers run like scars.
The moon hangs quietly
in the blackened air, halved and emptied, decaying since dusk
ONE POEM – Ava Patel
Here lie abandoned gyro crusts and Bundt cake crumbs.
Your fingers shine with olive oil grease
TWO POEMS – DS Maolalai
waking
at midnight
to piss
on the sand dunes
and the sky overhead
like a badly
scratched frying pan.
ONE POEM – Nóra Blascsók
In an ideal world
the washing machine
is a portal to clean linen
dishes lean back like sun
loungers by the sink
ONE POEM – Mary Chydiriotis
a chant begins
a loud doleful wail
smear my body in holy oil
adorn my head with your crown of thorns
FLASH FICTION – Kirsty Crawford
I sway and I spin, I smile. Sometimes even in perfect moments, you begin to feel the cold creep in.
PHOTOGRAPHY: Jessica Swank
Through photography and sculpture, I question how the manipulation of behaviour and patterns dehumanises society.
Porridge 