ONE POEM — Louise McStravick

We look up to her, I’ll teach you how
it works she says to the ram’s head, the birds eye
her mouth devouring snake heads

ONE POEM — Joseph Eastell

half six stampedes into our room
where we stretch across the kingsize,
urban sprawl nibbling at the greenbelt.

The Unbearable Brightness of Being – Laura Swan

I’ve taken photography up again for the sake of my fictional avatar. She’s about to start university in Dublin and, unbeknownst to her, she will buy a camera in her second term in an attempt to digest, dissect, and process the world around her – a world that has become intensely disorientating, a world she…

ONE POEM – Holly Conant

Last night they were alive again, flying through the air at break-bone speed, but they didn’t break.

ONE POEM – Emma Wells

a cheeping beak breaks forth
scenting balmy air:
swirls of hyacinths waft
in warm, hour-less days –

Two Cultures, Again – Kate Venables

I am a student in a creative writing programme, a mature student, from a professional background as an epidemiologist. Amongst ourselves, we students don’t really talk about ‘creativity’. We talk a lot about craft and sometimes we talk about ourselves and the way in which how we feel affects our writing. But rarely about ‘creativity’…