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(for Cerys Lewis)

. . . but some books float, Prospero,
and not all words bleed black into the waves.
Let these pages be tide-turned now,
polyp-bound and clasped with kelp;
spells brine-read until philosophy wears a carapace,
magi swim, and squid-inked runes are cast.
All deeps invert; tides at last divorce the moon
and gulls race risen ships upon a self-willed swell
to give the land one last embrace.




Mat Joiner lives near Birmingham, England, where they absorb tea and second-hand books, watch foxes, and admire crumbling buildings. Their stories and poems have appeared in Not One Of UsLackingtons, Goblin Fruit, and Stone Telling. You can find them on Twitter as @damsonfox
Current Issue
4 Nov 2024

“Did you know,” the witch says, “that a witch has no heart of her own?”
Outsiders, Off-worlders {how quickly one carves out a corner of the cosmos, / claims a singular celestial body as [o u r s] in the scope of infinity}
Lunar enby folks across here
Wednesday: The 2024 Ignyte Award for Best Novel Shortlist, Part Two 
Friday: A Place Between Waking and Forgetting by Eugen Bacon 
Issue 28 Oct 2024
Issue 21 Oct 2024
By: KT Bryski
Podcast read by: Devin Martin
Issue 14 Oct 2024
Issue 7 Oct 2024
By: Christopher Blake
Podcast read by: Emmie Christie
Issue 30 Sep 2024
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By: LeeAnn Perry
Art by: nino
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