By Gwil James Thomas

Like my dream of owning
a seafood restaurant -
so that I could write full time,
occasionally turning up
to sample crabs
in garlic sauce, before
tipping the dishwasher
and sitting back as the business
haemorrhaged money with any
outstanding debts to god only
knows who having been
long since paid off.

By Austin Islam

i can say ‘golpes duros’ in the bathroom mirror
but we will never ever get our bitch back
felt i had to cut cancer like classes
and still do to this day
lotta road work ahead
little markers measure growth
aiming to be in denver again without crutches
no stamp bags, no rat packs, no ceilings

By Nick Sun

I didn’t mean to take that much Peyote, but I feel things transpired in such a way to engineer this whole episode happening the way it did, because if I knew that after eating six peyote balls the whole universe was going to break loose on me, cracking my head open like a kinder surprise containing everything and nothing that had ever been, consensus reality collectively breaking down into a pile of weeping diarrhoea forming ever-shifting galaxies of abstract petroglyphs that seemed to contain the source code for the underlying superstructure of the cosmos that were so profound that they brought me to the very edge of madness, I probably would’ve said, ‘Get those fucking things the fuck away from me.’