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. 

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

PHOTOGRAPHY: Jessica Swank

Through photography and sculpture, I question how the manipulation of behaviour and patterns dehumanises society.