1. Articles
  2. (Page 53)

Figurehead

Poetry
  Salt is how you taste and Tarred rope of frayed hair at Arm and groin as if I’m Swimming…

Three Poems

Poetry
Catch 1. Grey Mullet Their mouths were small, lips too soft to tether a run, or bear their weight when…

RSVP

Poetry
  The lost souls of avarice are in hell blessed, Rotating their tales in disfigured amusement. Those who bestow and…

Two Poems

Poetry
A Fayum Portrait For Euphrosyne Doxiadis I saw you last night in Aromas, the taverna between garages at the end…

Waiting

Fiction
  Two days. When they summoned me here they said just a couple of hours. Two days. You’d think they’d…

Three poems

Poetry
Condensation on a windowpane 1 I want to write something simple, something simple, few adjectives, ambiguities disallowed. Something old-fashioned: a story…

Mother’s Hats

Fiction
  London was the Mecca of hats for my mother and a shopping trip with her meant something for me…

Two Poems

Poetry
The Wedding Tree On the half-bare branches of the tulip tree old wedding invitations are hanging. The parents’ weddings, invitations…

Gay Kay

Fiction
  When Kay told his parents the topic of his final-year project, a hush descended over the room, magnifying the…

Round and Round

Reviews
  Full Circle: How the Classical World Came Back to Us, Ferdinand Mount, Simon and Schuster, 438pp, £20 (hardback) I’d…

Two Poems

Poetry
The Returning Sky Blocked, the drain-flood lake out front is like a dirty moat now. Workmen come sucking-up sodden, black…

Political Movements

Reviews
  Raising Dust: A Cultural History of Dance in Palestine, Nicholas Rowe, I. B. Tauris, 256pp, £30 (hardback) At the…

Kleopatra: Room 62

Poetry
  (British Museum) What flung me out of life, I do not know: all I can recall again and again…

Ricky di Portanova

Fiction
  Many believed that Ricky was not a Baron from Naples. His father Paolo was even said to have declared,…

Causeway

Poetry
  I think of all those dark timbers revealed in the damp, dripping square of Flag Fen: the sinister causeway…

Seafarers

Poetry
  As if the ground were flying, the wind rushes them from under us into a cloud of cries, the…

Joy Riding

Poetry
  On a morning in Lent, dense with rain, even with the wipers going it’s not easy to see the…
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