Mama hugs
her son. Can we get
horchata? No. Not today.
It’s Tuesday. Treinta tacos?
De asada? Para llevar.
The wait’s worth it.
Tag: porridge magazine
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.
Pero’s Promise – Tamara Lazaroff
At the village bus stand, with my packed bags, I’m crying my eyes out as I kiss the faces of the row of relatives—Uncle Mitko, Beti, Verka, Tanja, Mirka, even Baba Slobodanka who Branko has carried on his back. Others, too. They’ve all come to say goodbye before I go back home to Australia. And…
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.
One Book: What Would You Save From Being Destroyed for Ever? – Hunter Liguore
If all the books in the world were being burned in a fire and you had the chance to save just one, what book would you save? For some this might be an easy answer; for others, this question might need the utmost consideration—as an avid book reader, with piles of books lining all corners…
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.
ONE POEM – Katherine Fallon
Finding them dead on returning from vacation,
she flushed her six African Cichlids.
ONE POEM – Jonathan Chadwick
The last three nights, I dreamt I was a sail
Lifted, swept and thumped from here to there.
PHOTOGRAPHY: Circus – David Rodríguez
“There’s a certain sort of artifice in my work and the way I use light and scenes because my lighting creates a kind of dreamscape.”
ONE POEM – Elizabeth Wilson Davies
The unconsidered diaries of family life fall open at once favourite recipes,
bittersweet imprints on the page of stained, smeared, sticky memories.
ONE POEM – Poppy Frean
listen
words pass overhead
spoken broken in dialogue slang where South
is said “SOUF”
Bettina von Arnim Accuses Me of Unfaithfulness – Charles Haddox
I dreamt one night about a bright-eyed young woman with dark hair who accused me of being unfaithful to her. Her accusations were apparently true, which troubled me deeply after I awoke. I had never been unfaithful to anyone but had myself suffered the pain of betrayal once or twice when I was young. I…
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