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.

ONE POEM – Fran Root

Their guitars stand somewhere in an empty room on American soil
Dust spots in the sun settle on their strings

An interview with Claudia Knight

Born in the heart of the Black Country, Claudia Knight is predominantly a writer who is exploring the capabilities of her creativity after moving to London and discovering the freedom in taking more risks in life. Having discovered the endless possibilities when creating digital art, her bold yet simple pieces explore her relationship with herself, her body…

TWO POEMS – Paul McCarrick

The moon will not go down again,
street lights will be on forever and drive
electricity bills into walls with no seatbelts

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…

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.