Unlike a jellyfish, she has a brain but doubts her instinct for survival.
swoop siren, dive under.
Tag: Creative Writing
ONE POEM – David Linklater
The train leans through
the Highland line, Inverness
to Fearn, wheat either side.
This carriage bows for you.
ONE POEM – Anna Seidel
We are looking for names,
that a laughing god
could call us by.
ONE POEM – Ottavia Silvestri
bathroom bucolic a pupil, dollop of toothpaste pink blue yellow cotton balls in the static light a gracious not swarming not fermenting pale May Ottavia Silvestri is a political science student that lives in Milan, Italy. In her free time she studies Mandarin and volunteers in a tiny cat shelter (hi Melinda, you’re my favourite…
COMFORT FOODS // Courgette — Yas Necati
In the Turkish supermarket, you search through baby peaches and it makes me feel closer to you.
ONE POEM – Lorraine Carey
Slathered in a vernix coat,
you slithered out to my relief
with ten toes and two perfect hands
bunched into tiny fists.
COMFORT FOODS // Cutlets – V.M. Braganza
Cutlets (also called potato chops), much like my family and their language, resist any attempt at tidy or singular classification.
You die if you worry – Robert Scott
You die if you worry, die if you don’t. I laughed the first time he said it. I hadn’t heard it before.
ONE POEM – Hideko Sueoka
Carnivorous Butterwort A pale-purple tint – a sort of violet of little petals attracting flies, ants in fresh beeches shading the zigzag trail with glossy moss. The floral colour implies saintly piety to God or deities at which an insect could quail in the East. Ecru moths cruise and scurry. Near Acheron just a halt….
ONE POEM – SJ Valiquette
writing a love letter to the ocean is as singing an aria to a hurricane:
there is nothing in language for this.
COMFORT FOODS // My Mother’s Sweet Halwa — Sheena Hussain
The pots and pans of childhood stir me.
TWO POEMS – Elizabeth Stott
We made the heads of Styrofoam
so not to be too heavy on their frail necks.
Hearts? Simply-fashioned, from lumps of stone.
Porridge 