GORDON PARSONS appreciates fine performances and a feel for ambiguity, but misses the music of the dialogue
where the heart is streaming
Sophie Robinson
there are places in which the mind thrives like plankton, where jobs
are easy to come by & every apartment overlooks the park, where
the funeral has barely started & the heart is a mist that rises & clears
like a browser & streaming faster — a gapless surface of fake solids
& there are places in which love reproduces itself like a lizard’s tail, heeds
to no alarm or database. places where the sun raises like a fat cunt
glowing in the sky. places where the rats don’t race but rat out
their days in a waterlogged stupor. places you can dive into from a height
MIK SABIERS revels in a band that ploughs an idiosyncratic furrow of expletive laden, guitar-driven alt rock
The bard invites readers to a gig, raps for Clacton, and lays out the Burnham-Hurzeler conundrum
ANDY CROFT welcomes the publication of an anthology of recent poems published by the Morning Star, and hopes it becomes an annual event
WILL STONE in entertained, and some, by the Irishman Shobsy and the Dutch/Kiwi combo My Baby


