Brown girl: you don’t get a plot twist. Your story’s been penned
with strokes as hollow as they are spiteful
Tag: porridge magazine
ONE POEM – Ian C. Smith
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
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 – Maura Way
I’m ready for the ritual
where I get crowned a
crone.
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.
What Makes a Proper Yorkshire Brew? – Lucinda Maitra
Rather than a distant past we can simply overcome or attempt to forget, our relationship to the historical atrocities of violent imperialism is difficult and clearly far from over, despite attempts to suggest otherwise.
An Argument with a Photographer: Thoughts on Autofiction – Alice Attlee
How would it be to find oneself reflected as “both handsome and unexceptional”, or find one’s back captured unawares from behind, “broad and fleshy, leathery with sun and age, and marked with numerous moles and scars”?
ONE POEM – Fran Root
Their guitars stand somewhere in an empty room on American soil
Dust spots in the sun settle on their strings
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.
Porridge 