and-yeah-i'm-grateful by Lydia Hounat


-attracted-to-our-abortion-its-foetal-handle-stretching-for-a-flip-and-it’s-as-though-I-want-to-always-be-in-love-with-you-the-new-freckle-that-developed-on-the-right-side-of-my-nose-you’d-appreciate-and-13%-of-me-is-battery-crumble-and-I’ve-lost-my-sense-of-smelling -you-but-if-I-try-late-at-night-in-bed-I’ll-recall-its-suggestion-I’ll-link-my-hand-luggage-the-next-day-and-get-the-hell-out-for-you-I’d-peel-your-banana-for-you-I’d-leave-the-door-on-the-latch-for-you-I’d-wear-a strap-on-and-pose-for-you-if-only-you’d-fumble-with-a-guitar-so-I-might-sleep-for-an-hour-wallpapering-the-next-life-with-dreams-I-refuse-to-cross-rainbows-when-they’re-inverted-smiles-it’s-a-disrespectful-it’s-a-gross-with-a-dust-peppering-me-it’s-ecstasy-for-no-longer-being-friends-it’s-regret-for-dogging-midday-wings-with-paper-packets-flying-baked-kiss-and-a-hug-I’m-never-so-drug-faced-wet-for-a-change-and-bleeding-out-Jon’s-bed-with-the-I-Can’t-Anymore-clutching-at-straws-no-knives-dipping-me-low-when-I-remember-menstrual-fucking-and-being-your-b-a-b-y-with-a-White-House-grinning-utopic-visions-of-endlesslys-yeah-my-daddy-would-be-ashamed-for-my-misgivings-my-repeated-crack-lines-my-penchant-for-mistakes-but-still-love-me-for-the-slight-blonde-in-my-summered-hair-and-yeah-I’m-grateful-for-you-like-I’m-grateful-for-overripe-bananas-because-they’re-preferable-to-use-whenever-I’m-preparing-banana-cake-in-my-head-for-you

Lydia Hounat is a British-Algerian artist from Manchester, England. She edits the poetry section at REALITY BEACH magazine and SOBER. zine. She is currently a Poet-in-Residence at Manchester Metropolitan University, and resides between Cornwall and London.

Lydia's website

Baudelaire's Funeral by RJ Dent


The world would not have mourned him had it known;
a select elect who felt the loss were there,
while those trapped in their own time stayed away.

As the black coffin was slowly lowered,
the summer rain fell heavily – all dashed
for shelter beneath the graveyard’s yew trees.

Despite the wrong season, it could have been
a frozen moment from one of his poems.

Around the world, all life moved forward. His
death would mean less than his life; this in turn
would only be of value for his verse.

In a small orange grove five black horses
lazily cropped the grass and swished their tails,
as over the emerald water of a pond,
two prism-winged dragonflies met and kissed.

RJ Dent is a novelist, poet, translator, essayist and short story writer. He has translated Charles Baudelaire’s The Flowers of Evil (2009), and Le Comte de Lautréamont’s The Songs of Maldoror (illustrated by Salvadore Dali) (2011) to critical acclaim. His poems, short stories, novellas and essays continue to appear in numerous magazines and journals.

Check out RJ Dent's website



This ugly-faced girl doesn’t feel pretty,
so scrub her skin off to reveal pretty.

Lasso the moon’s reflection from the pool.
Even down wells you can still steal pretty.

This man nods off hearing Rachmaninoff,
but between blinks he says it’s “real pretty.”

Titanium oxide, kohl, tartrazine,
ultramarine, mica, cochineal pretty.

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.
Lituo says, “Do it.” Let’s repeal pretty.

Lituo Huang writes fiction and poetry in Los Angeles and has appeared in a variety of journals. Her chapbook of poetry and short stories, This Long Clot of Love, is forthcoming in December 2019. She is currently at work on her first novel.

Check out Lituo's website