ONE POEM – Nicola Maclean

Zones one to three have become a long-distance relationship.
Underground, Hades and his sardine dead
reach their eleventh hour

THREE POEMS – Susan Moon

My mother packed eggs sunny side up,
Spam slices golden-browned to perfection
tucked into my lunchbox.

ONE POEM – Alice Foo

The angel comes unbidden
on a Thursday morning,
knocking briskly, handing me
a pineapple and thirteen coral-tinted roses.

TWO POEMS – Kali Richmond

the diver submerged for so long
we presume her dead
shark food
scattershot of matter sinking deeper than cameras

ONE POEM – Gerry Stewart

Spread out before you,
whipped and bright coloured,
dripping with sauces,
a world of unimagined flavours,
untranslatable.

ONE POEM – Ryan Clark

Below the wall the soil
leeches contaminants
from an artificial hill rising
out of the field like a wart.

ONE POEM – Barnaby Smith

the small hours are all about compost—
wanderlust of priceless larvae
& transcendent effect of unremarkable habits

ONE POEM – Athena Ramos

Around December, our grove
of banana plants grew heavy, saba begging:
to be picked, coated in brown sugar, wrapped
in lumpia wrapper, and fried in sugary oil.

ONE POEM – Kate J Wilson

you said it’s tradition in Spain that as the clock
strikes twelve we must scoff a grape a chime
one at a time, but quickly as any left over become
unsalvageable, each one a rotten, failing month.