Georgina Titmus

they made me wade. 

the fingering weed. the goosefleshing badass 



than the thing that plucks 

my duvet, 

as i lie 

in-terror waiting. worser—than school. 



glass-slippery-toes-pumpkin-ooze. they made 

me pay— 

        at midnight. 

Georgina Titmus is a 60-something Cornwall poet and carer. Her work has appeared in South, The Journal, The Frogmore Papers, Fenland Poetry Journal, Orbis, The Moth and others. She has twice been shortlisted in the Bridport Prize.

Three Ways with Hope

Annie McCann-Gomm

52 North, imagined

dusk dies around our ears,
sometimes a hare crosses my path
its fawny grey barely visible
in wheaten grass and gloom,
late afternoon, midwinter birches

wild nights and soft, and a breath
that can be all we have
and hope, and hope.
hope falling, hope sighing.

wild nights and soft,
two faces in disco lights, and eyelashes between
heavy seed pods and half-laugh sighs.

next hope, next hope

this is someone else’s laundry, someone else’s life
and we get to do this gladly
we live in the eaves of our desires
and we get to do this gladly
even through hurt, even through pinpricks
we get to do this gladly. 

certain grey joy

in your dead mouth
there is also hope
love lies in places
a new snow, even now, barely seen
falls, still

Annie McCann-Gomm is a grad student, waitress and writer in the Netherlands. She studies and writes about the anthropology of the environment, thinking about how we can live with the earth and each other. 

Loving Him Epiphany

Jesse Saldivar

He said,

     I feel so loved
     around you

So that must mean I love him. 
How true,
that must be

if even I cannot see
our course we run –

inches make the love-journey!
In this country culture we endure
the othering of love –

The tongue that tastes true-love
discerns the gaslight

I shout theater! I shout
love is out there.

Jesse Saldivar is an undergraduate writer studying at the University of California, Davis. They have one poem published in issue five of Oakland Review and one short story published in Open Ceilings. They love writing with concern for space, history, love, and queerness. 


Dominik Slusarczyk

Do you discard? 
You know you could mend instead? 
Let me show you how to sew. 
All you need is 
This little needle. 
The thread appears where 
You want it to die for you. 

Dominik Slusarczyk is an artist who makes everything from music to painting. He was educated at The University of Nottingham where he got a degree in biochemistry. He lives in Bristol, England. His poetry has been published in Dream Noir.

suitcase dream

Emily Munro


toy guns
one looked like a bird
I didn’t bother to fold the clothes


the plastic bag
given by my mother
apples: cooking below, eating on top
and slices of dry bread


which of it was mine
my children’s
my husband’s?

Emily Munro is a writer, archive curator and filmmaker based in Glasgow. Her writing explores themes around the environment, anxiety and parenting as well as our ambivalent relationship to the past in the Anthropocene. She was longlisted for the 2023 Caledonia Novel Award and the 2022 Briefly Write Poetry Prize.

Street Ghosts

Mark Valentine

On the way to the old alabaster works,
on a hot day, the river brown and slow,
buzzards above the hill, the air still,
we came upon the overgrown mosaic
made by local children years ago,
a picture-book plan of their world:
cars, ponies, trains, church, school,
mostly succumbing to the red mud,
the bright tiles cracked or chipped;
an abandoned tableau, zest now lost,
its artists grown up and gone away,
streets haunted by dandelion ghosts.

Mark Valentine lives in Yorkshire and likes second-hand bookshops, vegan food, canal walks, small towns, and village hall flea markets. His work has appeared in PN ReviewAgendaM58Finished CreaturesRacemeVolumeAtrium and in a chapbook, Astarology (Salo Press, 2021).

For That One Friend I Don’t Speak to Anymore

Chloe McIntosh

Sorry for the teeth at your collarbone,
The venom in your throat,
The way you never got to the centre of me
No matter how far you burrowed
And how much I promised it was right around that bend

The things we are to each other
Are nebulous and weak
As the tea your flatmate leaves
Scattered on every surface of the house

I just wanted you to take a chance, give a little,
Believe in something crueller and more wondrous than what you’d come to expect
But all we got was the shed skin, the tetanus, cold mugs, heating bills we can’t afford,
Ghosts of each other
Ripped out of every photograph

Chloe McIntosh is a poet and writer of short fiction from Hertfordshire. She has a BA in English Literature from the University of Exeter and was shortlisted for the Platypus Press Celestial Bodies Poetry Competition. Her work is also forthcoming in Lucent Dreaming’s For a Friend Anthology.

Volunteer veterans

Vyacheslav Konoval

A battalion is born
from former police officers,
wear a chevron
take the patch and medallion.

Training ahead
blood, sweat and loss,
shame, I’m in a warm bed.

Vyacheslav Konoval is a Ukrainian poet whose work is devoted to the most pressing social problems of our time, such as poverty, ecology, relations between the people and the government, and war. His poems have appeared in many magazines, including Anarchy Anthology Archive, International Poetry Anthology and Literary Waves Publishing.

A measure of the past from the future

Namratha Varadharajan

I scroll through the new world
and there is a face  

that reminds me of a closed door.
The promise of everything

that flew away, the hidden ocean
of (possible) emotions. Everything

away from sight. The
we was never a we, and the

(never we) became an I, I
should have stuck

my face inside the wet earth, I
should have (again and again)

dived off ledges and fell into tears. Instead
in the now. nothing.

which makes me think there was nothing then.

Namratha Varadharajan writes to explore human emotions and relationships, and our interconnectedness with nature while trying to chip at the prejudices that plague us, one syllable at a time. Her work has been published in The Yearbook of Indian Poetry 2022, The Kali Project, The Gulmohar Quarterly, The Alipore Post, haikuKATHA, Poetry Pea, among others.


Praveena Pulendran

Praveena Pulendran is a 21-year-old creative from London. She enjoys photography, flowers, and the colour pink! Her passion for mixed media often merges with her poetry, creating mini art pieces tucked away in scrappy notebooks.