The Gut

A Poem By Shameelah Khan Guilt has made my stomach lining absorb very little I watch as my intestines crawl into themselves forming vines along my gut wrenching willows and silent pushes and squirms of the dead and the hollow nuances of memory that digress -how slowly does loss take to digest

Evoking Melodies

A Haiku Series By Amir Bagheri *** I embrace silence When your ego burns my soul- Silence clouds your sun. *** In the heart of self Hides a god who knows your truth- Drown till you find her. *** Your lack of passion‬ ‪Takes meaning away from words‬ ‪I once wrote for you. ***  


A Poetic Photo-Series By Mandla Phakathi (poetry) and Kabelo Sello (photography) Rationale: Flashback is a body of work that reflects on the moments gone by, the times that have passed. It zooms into ghosts of the past while displaying the ghosts of seconds ago. It seeks to highlight that the now is all we as […]


A Short Story By Sarah Leck 「孩子,你看你堂哥的儿子这么可爱!」 “Child, look how cute your cousin’s son is!” My mother held a phone to my face, hers beaming with familial pride. On the screen was a picture of a boy about a year old with cherubic, pink cheeks, smiling guilelessly. 「对啊,可爱。」 “Yeah, he’s cute.” I meant it, but […]


A Poem By Juwairiah Bemath eyes — those windows to the soul, those glassy beads of truth — open up the lids the dark, cavernous retreat the cold, painfully resonant desolation . your emetic white lies they have me s p u t  t e r  i n g like a fish out of murky […]

Sunday’s guilt

A Poem By Pippa Browning Happiness threatens me shadows clog me I would just hate to leave this brothel of youth this early but time is hunting Injected labels summon restless pride among all this goddamn mooching Holy inertia narrates strewn survival and kingdom come nags Senile treasures hide in mirror eyes like corkscrew minds whiplashing […]


By Maude Sandham and Nicola Pilkington (I) It is my memory or absence of memory that has turned my grandfather into a shadow in my recollections. I can feel him hunching over us crowded at a table, dividing something up between us. Looking up I see the outline of his jaw, his barreled chest, his boep, […]