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?

ONE POEM – Anne Gill

In lattie we held martinis,
un-clobbered each other –
left our cats on the floor in nishta.

What Makes a Proper Yorkshire Brew? – Lucinda Maitra

Rather than a distant past we can simply overcome or attempt to forget, our relationship to the historical atrocities of violent imperialism is difficult and clearly far from over, despite attempts to suggest otherwise.

ONE POEM – Fran Root

Their guitars stand somewhere in an empty room on American soil
Dust spots in the sun settle on their strings