Sand Cake
By Lisa Reily My birthday cake drowns in the foam, its stick-candlesand pretty shells swept away by the sea. I watch from my sandy fortress, legs splashed by th...
By Lisa Reily My birthday cake drowns in the foam, its stick-candlesand pretty shells swept away by the sea. I watch from my sandy fortress, legs splashed by th...
By Bart Van Goethem I love you I love you I love you
By Aaron Menzel You can watch plenty of movies On a fourteen-hour flight. Knock back a few Jack’n’cokes (You’re sure these are free?) As you drift off against y...
By Anonymous The hue of rage is black not red. He taught her this when she was six, and he locked her out of her house for being a child, a crescent moon night ...
By Claire Wilkins It was me who made the two anonymous calls. 1988 You denied your ex-husband visitation rights to see his two and four-year-old children. All y...
By Stevie Heaven My parents were identity thieves. I am a ghost story: haunted by the familial triad and its organised crimes. I am a misopater, an Electra comp...