Two Hundred Twenty a Kilo by Nabarun Bhattacharya, translated by Manash...

(Homage to Karl Marx) Nabarun Bhattacharya (23 June 1948 – 31 July 2014) On the floor of a slaughterhouse A butcher’s leg slips in the blood Crows go raucous...

Refugees by Manash Bhattacharjee

Refugees I know a thing or two about refugees – As a child I heard father say, “We were sleeping in the place we thought was our country, till the siren rang...

The Lighthouse by Michael Shann

The Lighthouse Markhouse Road So far from the wine-dark sea, a displaced monument to faith and absurdity at the turn of a neat, Victorian street. Still, the treacherous rocks...

Catalogue of Minor Extinctions by Tyler Raso

i. labrador duck  Sitting at a disrespectful distance— ---------back where they came from—gets defensive when blinking (like only ---------shepherds have a right to). welcoming wreckage to its homeland by ---------sailboat...

Evening Light

Evening Light Brave bat in a bowler hat Blood shot eyes question What time does this light Depart? The light descends elsewhere Its shadow rising here The bat changes into an...

Snowbound by Michael O’Neill

Snowbound Carriages lit and still between the drifts ... With each flake it took on a new form, the city they seemed exiled from --- almost a sad,...

Khuda by Manash Bhattacharjee

Many times I passed by your house On my way to see my grandmother I paused before the large iron gates Expecting to catch a glimpse of...

Poetry | Atlantic Palimpsest by Kerri ní Dochartaigh

-for Heaney and the Peace Bridge Grey and greying sky reflected in choppy body, as our matching heron performs his balancing act for all to see. The Donegal hills,...

Flash Fiction | Never Fall For That by Rebecca Lilly

"Clarify your intent," — Lama Chopra, our meditation teacher, rang the bell for us to sit — "the Reaper was once an old friend." My...

Social Contract by Rachel Willems

The politeness, not leaving any butter in the jam, or jam in the butter, or shoes in the hall. Not leaving any residue of who did...

We Wait for Poets by Manash Bhattacharjee

prophets have retired so do not wait for yours to come to you ~ Ashraf Fayadh (translated by Mona Kareem) In our country, a prince, Dara Shikoh, had...

Review | WITCH by Rebecca Tamás

In her latest collection, WITCH, Rebecca Tamás explores the triumphs and oppression, the strengths and weaknesses, the power and the fears that generations of...

The Teacher by Manash Bhattacharjee

To Upal Deb He wasn’t a blackboard Framing flightless birds Not a classroom figure Offering the curriculum To rows of bored faces He sat on his bed facing The window Van...

Partita, 1968 by Hannah Lowe

Partita, 1968 When the tabla and double bass are really moving the raga in full swing I think of when I used to run for hours, for...

Review | The Neighbourhood by Hannah Lowe

Hannah Lowe’s fourth chapbook, The Neighbourhood, begins with a winding dotted line that travels from the first to the second page. The image continues...

At Aya Sofia by Edward Lucie-Smith

Today it’s snowing, snowing In Istanbul, Stamboul, Constantinople, New Rome, Byzantium. The city has mislaid its Jews And most of its Greeks. The bones of its Armenians Are long scattered. Somewhere far...

News | Waltham Forest Borough of Culture 2019 — The People’s...

The People's Forest — a literary strand to Waltham Forest's programme as the first ever London Borough of Culture this year — has recently...

Poetry | Woman by Manash Bhattacharjee

Woman “It’s easy, impossible, hard, worth trying.” ~ Wislawa Szymborska, “Portrait of a Woman” (1976) She is intimately attached To night and day. Only...

Review | The Triumph of Cancer by Chris McCabe

The scientific language used by doctors to describe cancer—the uncontrollable growth of a single cell—is often mystifying and alienating. Can the experience of cancer...

Questions Concerning Aristotle’s Tomb by Manash Bhattacharjee

An archaeologist in Greece unearths Aristotle’s Tomb; others dispute the evidence. If Aristotle’s ideas are consulted, the archaeologist Needs to prove, the tomb’s where he claims it, Not...

At the Nursing Home by Leland James

—inside an old man vacant by the window Hold me occasionally for the light is fading and I can no longer see the hills that once rose...

Onion Music by Mark Fiddes

I grow lighter for you with each striptease from skin to skin leaving a glimmering bulb a milk light by your bed for you to undress by or find your...

Exile by Manash Bhattacharjee

Exile “I rested my mouth on your memory” ~ Yannis Ritsos, from Diaries of Exile Night arrives like a cart You push it with motionless hands There is darkness But...

Giggles by Evdokia Charalampous

With her eyes closed she has been staring at the lamps on the ceiling for days. By now they must look like Sufi dervishes whirling in white to...

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