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 – 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.

Feeling Myself – Dolly Church

When my body was made up of straight lines it felt boyish and uninteresting, and when those lines finally bent, they felt uncontrollable.