Author: Director

Poetry
Ephraim Gast
It’s a pottery and clay day. Aren’t we all feeling the thickness of the ether? Yes but everyone still recoils and waters their very own laurels. . Oh, look: that topsoil is blowing off! Now old Knave and young Lark can see me. Under that damn ramshackle stalk...

Poetry
Peter O’Neill
An old cleaning lady, bowed down by years of service, approaches The church under the weight of a full bucket of water, passes The fonts, vulva like, where the original water you wear resides, Opens a blue door promising mystery and incense and enters into The...

Short Story
Dragoon Babic
It was a familiar story.We were locked in arms and giddily stumbling towards our inevitable fate. The cobbled streets over which we fumbled clopped out the beat of our clumsy march. On we walked; illuminated by the glare of the neon...

Short Story
David Duff
There’s been little men dancing on me neighbour’s roof. Saw them with me own eyes so I did. Dozens of the bastards! No bigger than me mickey. The wife says I’m mad, but I know I saw them. ‘Twas no “trick...