By April Egan, Stas Forte and Mercury Tarantino

Download Sportn’t Download a text-only version of Sportn’t April Egan reads ‘Dock Leaf Liturgy’ from Sportn’t: Stas Forte reads ‘Obituary For A Body’ from Sportn’t: Mercury Tarantino reads ‘Sad Golden Eyed Boy of Olympus’ from Sportn’t:

Robert Hooke Reimagines London

By Jack Cooper

“[Robert Hooke] achieved fame as Surveyor to the City of London and chief assistant of Christopher Wren, helping to rebuild London after the Great Fire. He worked on designing the Monument, Royal Greenwich Observatory, St. Paul’s Cathedral, whose dome uses a method of construction conceived by Hooke, and Bethlem Royal Hospital.” – The Monument  The […]


By Amy Wolstenholme

When I’m alone I use the lost language, gathering up giltycups for your grave, thinking only of how much you loved yellow, how you’d stretch your hand to the sun in the archet, watching it settle in the grooves and galaxy of your palm. We’ve been having cazelty weather since you went, my love, the […]

Item 293.7 Rural History Museum, 30/04/2221

By Hannah Hodgson

In two hundred years all archaeologists will find of my life will be plastic bungs. I fall asleep on them. I am the princess who can’t feel her peas. They leave me bullseyed, looking as if a tick has bitten and left redness as its triumph. All they will find are these stoppers which prevent […]

brother and sister climbing dead oak

By Divya Mehrish

pretend you’re kicking the heart of the tree. you’re crushing me. you need to swing over that branch. i know how your legs work. we have the same body, remember? i’ve lived in our chest two years longer than you. are you gonna keep your maiden name when you get married? it’s also your maiden name, you idiot. i’m not a […]

An Edict In Destiny (Or: Helena Looking Back)

By Creagh Factor

I’m tracing the pressed flower on the page, dipping fragile sunrise, the place where we could be two angels. See, we wanted that paradise: two girls lying in the woods, safe in the cocoon of friendship, like they’re both fated for each other, not pursued, not men pushing out the lines, just Hermia and Helena. […]

Sharon, Massachusetts

By Dana Blatte

After Gaia Rajan The horizon ruptures in the shape of my name. Dana, Dana, it calls while I sleep on my belly in the woods. I will dream about the sky, how it unfolds like a bruised lid, how deer dung marks constellations in the dirt. Later, I will drive myself across town. I will […]

On Becoming a Changeling

By Ellora Sutton

The forsythia, like all stars, is dying its impermanent death. Gold, bronze, gone. I yank my old hair from the brush, leave it in parcels on the doorstep for the birds – magpie, robin, song thrush. The pheasants make their road accident sounds, twisted metal out their mouths. I am still and heavy so long […]

The Darkness Falls at Thy Behest

By Olivia Tuck

for Grandad Beyond the window, summer is packing up, the way we used to gather the leftovers, fold the picnic blanket and carry it – and the hamper – back to the car’s open boot. Once, you’d have told me why the air seems to cling. Now, the long shadows stare as you lie, your […]

I Wear a Set of Lungs as a Necklace

By Hannah Hodgson

I’ve never held an orange which has fully dried out, with its cloves loose and falling apart. I’m only experienced in fresh oranges, cloves displacing juice, a candle wrapped in tinfoil, dolly mixtures on cocktail sticks, the church a once-a-year attendance. The belltower is a place I’ll never visit again. Pulling joy with ropes after […]

Into The Tunnel (And Out Again)

By Jude Leese

I’d rather play in the park, I think but at least it’s not school. I’m somewhere completely new. It looks nice and clean but all the grown-ups look so sad and I don’t know why. They tell me it’s a fairly simple procedure but I’m not so sure I would have to sleep in this […]

Ode to Mr Motivator

By Ellora Sutton

lifting cans of rice pudding over my head counting to eight on the metronome of my hips eight more           eight more in the living room yes! I can balance on one leg and stay there like a tree half uprooted I had not thought of my body as a party I had not thought of […]


By Victoria Fletcher

I do not want to be. I am a negative – if the grey light grazes me, I will bloom into uselessness, sepia spreading to my curled edges. I do not want the light to leak anymore. I lunge across my lurching floor and drag down the blinds, then fall onto my still-made bed; the […]

Love Poem to Stephen the Phlebotomist

By Nadia Lines

How bored you are, explaining phenotypes to me. I stammer about GCSE biology; I have forgotten T cells exist, I have forgotten clots, platelets, osmotic pressure, I have forgotten my birthday. You hand me another form; like mine, your hands are small. I wonder how many times a day you ask which arm, how many […]

The Human Seasons

By Alice Hill-Woods

in memory of g. a. w. All we have are the notes in our phones and a lemon before it rots against the ceramic fruit-bowl, blue memento mori, the crazing writing age in webs. Not the dusty kind, stuck to cilia and the dark corners of a buy-to-let; I mean the alive webs, silky and […]

tipping point

By Kristine Ma

today, my lungs feel like the sky, ballooned and loose and free, legs billowing like a sailboat on the far east, the horizon just before the drop, tangled limbs and summer and laughing. today, i go miles without stopping, and miles more. it’s been a while since i felt alive. it’s because i ran every […]

For the Four Months I was Too Depressed to Feed Myself

By Sairah Ahsan

You first found the sickness in your mouth when your tongue fuzzed and split, a fast motion image of soft fruit in decay playing out in your bathroom mirror spit out into culture growing on the grime of your sink, white foam on the banks of the red sea revealing rust flavoured canyons sunk between […]


By Anna Bailey

Glass tank in a biology classroom; I count the centipedes. See? Hundreds of subtle, creeping things, life’s sediment, seldom stirred. Quantification is human nature; three celery-green eyes encircle the wrist of a fairy tale witch. A trio of centaurs, lamenting in triolet form. A census. I count centipedes in the biology classroom; time scuttles past […]


By Kitty Joyce

  Liminal: fairy-blue, like the spaces between diagnoses. The centre of a trembling that hollows out a city, or a marriage. Organza petticoats made from blackbird feathers and staples. The curve of a tongue on the back of the word lullaby. The writhing of mango skins in water as seeds float frost-like on the surface. […]


By Matilda Houston-Brown

two sisters pushing their hands two together, two sets of fingers, thumbs – candy popping round their mouth, pastel shards of it – each vowel sound posed an opposite to hiss like capsizing dinghies – approachable gossip to figure out a kiss or fight, popped spots, acne scars, posed in the dark as if they’re […]

The Distance Between Us

By Lauren Mappledoram

Mapping my body along its tissues, I trace the curved lines across my palm, up veins branching like B roads and touch my face – people say I look like you. Our eyes crinkle the same way when we laugh and our throats creak like rusty weather vanes. Stretching my arms, I imagine white fascia […]


By Alannah Young

Pulled taut, the silken surface of the Seine comes to kiss my toes, recedes, and comes again; moves around my feet but swathes to meet the mellow rain. My skin understands: what must stay in, stays in. Like a tongue held hostage in foreign terrain. Words taught falter and sounds wane. When water falls on […]


By Nadia Lines

Blister on my finger grows, the chasm between bone and the outer ring of skin, the skin filling with glassy liquid, the inside of the plaster like an open egg and I am queasy at the sight of my weeping fingernails, the eager yellow jelly, all the yolks I haven’t eaten, the whites of someone […]

Anime Boyz

By Lydia Wei, Em Power, Adelina Rose Gowans, Sanjula Narayanan, Ann Dinh, Anne Rong, Carly Chan, Mae, Melissa Sibilla, Mica Pascual, Nina Joseph, Peach and Sherri Keys

Contains strong language Download a screen-reader friendly version of this zine

Cassie and the Flood

By Kia Matanky-Becker and Miles Simpson

  Cassie had creases in her cheeks, they were wrinkled like fingers that had spent too long in the bath; Cassie had a leak, she had a tearaway tear duct that was responsible for the flood, her clothes were soaked through, they stick to her skin like a wet suit. Every suit Cassie wore was […]


By Lauren Lisk and Simran Misir

  (Chords: A, B, C#, E) I could never meet your expectations Always out of reach Never gave me an explanation I could never be free Clip my wings so I can’t fly Tear my down every time I try I know I could never be in her place When I needed you you just […]

Bad Vibes Only

By Libby Russell, Emily Fletcher, Celia Mostachfi and Lydia Wei

Contains strong language Download a screen-reader friendly version of this zine


By Priya Abularach and Hannah Beitchman

Contains strong language Download a screen-reader friendly version