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by  Sasha Callaghan Pen to Print Poetry Competition 2018/19 Runner Up. Midsummer, and the lane is splashed in sunshine. Unpaved, and bordered by hedgerows, The narrow track runs, like a seam, to the river. Embroidered with pink and cream roses. Threaded with meadowsweet. Quilted with orchids. Fortress Arcadia, holding out Against the patchwork blanket of city Amongst the swaying ...

by Demi Whitnell                                                 Pne to Print Poetry Competition 2018/19 Runner-Up My stumpy bearded boy who can play any song on guitar if you ask him to which will ...

by Sylvia Anne Telfer                                                 Dusk falls on Conor Boyle’s wake, calling a shake of moths to lamppost to dance in wonky rings, awry yo-yos in moonless night. What weary hobos with ...

A B.A.D. BOROUGH by Gertcha Cowson I live in a B.A.D. borough, a B.A.D. borough I have grown to adore, it is a multi-cultural borough, mixed-raced to the core. I hear all the snooty remarks, spoken with their noses upturned, like our name provokes a rotten smell, akin to old shit that’s ready ...