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
Tag: Creative Writing
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 – Clifford Brooks
Vacant of leaves
and shell-wrapped gifts,
dad and I can see the sky.
ONE POEM – Linda M. Crate
the fox and i
shared one glance
i think about it all the time
ONE POEM – Jack B. Bedell
and as soon as I touched the freezer’s handle,
the tar wall behind it rippled.
ONE POEM – Ben von Jagow
While I sleep
pygmy elephants
journey across my bedroom floor.
ONE POEM – Anne Gill
In lattie we held martinis,
un-clobbered each other –
left our cats on the floor in nishta.
ONE POEM – Anna Nightingale
when a father is a control bar
made of wood
and the strings snap
the puppets fall
ONE POEM – Lizz K
Photo by Joseph Pearson on Unsplash Milk Crate Malady We stumble to your home, arms linked tripping over ourselves as we talk I’m guided through the front door and down the passage to your room A lone mattress on the hardwood floor A vinyl collection spilling out of green milk crates Quick thumbs roll a cigarette we take…
TWO POEMS – Sara Nesbitt Gibbons
Their heads out, curved eyes on us,
reciprocating the salty, convex cabin.
Look, there, beautiful wooden bowling balls, said my mum.
SHORT STORY – Tamara Lazaroff
My grandfather who was not gay was born in 1930 in Seville, Andalusia. He worked as an itinerant labourer for the señoritos, the rich landlords, tending their olive trees and their domesticated animals.
THREE POEMS – Satya Dash
There are days when my body is a forest of old pines ailing and wailing in unison
Porridge 