Category: Issue One Poetry

By Karina Talbot For a few months I could forget easily enough where I came from, The old tongues and tones of Western Europe Veiled me.

By Scherezade Siobhan In a field of barley, you are an Andalusian horse – light’s flaxen champagne rippling beneath the naranjo trees I am a dilettante of wanton breeds, an artisan of the sinew’s electricity. Together, we diagram the hunt, the pointillism of hunger brushing our backs, our muscles speaking in the language  of temples…

By Scherezade Siobhan the very first thing he ever said was – i want you to inch out the splinters i have sharpened into ribs within the tilde of my anatomy. i want you to help me unweave this glass wool warp of my epiphanies

By Scherezade Siobhan snow owl, i call him – the totem of gold-augured goddesses through a jetlag, our twin bodies are willed into an island dargah

By Oscar O’Neill-Pugh Who took your measurements? The diameter of the jugular nestled happily in your throat. Who was it you watched fall as you straddled Lucifer and rode the goat?

By Oscar O’Neill-Pugh It was without a doubt, That I would be forgotten, left behind. Although I did not really pout, As I really didn’t mind.

By Oscar O’Neill-Pugh I am a weed, A stray tuft of foliage that no one wants.

By Oscar O’Neill-Pugh She keeps a cleaver, Right next to the bedside table, Underneath her pillow. She has scrawled My name, On every inch of the blade.

By Eloise Faichney Roll the blinds up so the light is inescapable, so that you cannot oversleep.