By Corrina Kehkét The girl sobs, and the birds sing and the birds sing and the birds sing wings tucked tight, the birds sing. Song and sob meet at a sun-stunned window screen, and the song slips past but the sobs bounce back, trapped with the girl who freed them. The trees softly sway to shyly wave limbs that bow and bend, that gently reach, Hers flail and fling, thrash and snap, crack upon impact with a cold patch of pale sky. The wind blows a breathy tune, a

By Zenobia There is a bloodletting across the land by an on-all-fours submissive obedience to a red knee-capped agenda drooling for greed and power. But to tell the truth, we are all being seduced, hunted, really charmed by the beauty of soft fat lips and are overworked, trying to survive distracted in a buzzed haze from what is really happening until drawn into the darkness of deep sleep. Wake. Up. Find your own voice without prejudice see past the heavy blur of sparkling fi

By Sam Szanto It’ll have to be the labour ward , the midwife says, wheeling the woman who is bleeding. There are no private rooms free . Having passed rows of belly-rubbing women the woman who is bleeding is left to heave her empty belly onto the hard bed. Her husband rests on an invisible chair. The woman clutches the bag that bulges with folded sleepsuits, nappies, energy drinks, jelly babies, romper suits, nursing bras, the birth plan. She silences the phone that fir