Ben Davis performs a poem about the good, bad, and very ugly bits of camping holidays. From the Shoot from the Lip Grand Final, Zephyr Lounge, 26.06.18.
The Geologist
by Willow Orton
When I pick out stones
from the gravel in the mid-day sun,
I choose only the smoothest, or the prettiest,
(or the ones with nails driven through them) Continue reading
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My Sister Simone
Walking with my father
by Alex Scott
There’s something about walking just before sunset,
those moments before the sky has made room for the moon,
when the sinking sun’s edges sharpen around it’s skin
until it looks domed enough to reach out and cup. Continue reading
One of the Darker Nights
by Katie James
Down in the dark, the old man sits there and rubs his face
with the palm of his hand. He’s watching the computer screen
and he’s falling asleep, when a sound comes from the case
behind him. The case that remembers a certain teen
and his brave-faced grin in that dimly lit alleyway.
Behind him, a flash of red, yellow, green. Continue reading
