F*ck Cancer: Fighting the Odds in 21st Century America – Leah Mueller

  No one is ever prepared for these dreaded words: your husband’s got cancer. I should have known, but I didn’t. For months, my husband Russ complained of muscle weakness, nausea, blood in his stools, and dizziness. His new primary care provider, a man lauded by his young receptionist as a “genius”, said, “If you…

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TWO POEMS – Dane Hamann

My bones willow and bite.
My lungs are a workshop. The thing is, I
want to be both engine and earth.

Virtue — Clare Healy

A glimpse into a young woman’s summer working in a quaint town in Provence on the night of an open-air concert.

ONE POEM – Salam Wosu

I ask my  body ‘what is life?’ it says ‘dance’ 

because dance is a way the body finds liberation
through lyrics, solace in songs, an overeager mosaic
of marinated moments & coralled colours colliding.

ONE POEM – RC deWinter

you slid once more into my dreams
so real i woke and called your name
it was that hour so close to dawn
the world doesn’t know if it’s coming or going

Moving Towards The Yes – Tamara Lazaroff

I have never felt it so clearly: the field of independent, potential affirmatives, the ‘yes’, the ‘yeses’ to all of the pleasure and power, freedom, purpose and desire that is mine to choose and discover.

Sustenance – Katy Thornton

Deirdre Murphy died on the 11th June, exactly three years after she should have died of a stroke. She was a despicable old bat, a snobby try hard, an utter sour puss, to name a few of her nicknames.

ONE POEM – James Ducat

My friend the tarot reader repeats,
but she is a little drunk,
translucent fingers unfurling,
while shade, levered by branches,