All the Ugly and Wonderful Things by Bryn Greenwood

Wavonna Quinn, known as Wavy, born in the backseat of a car to drug addicted and drug dealing parents, is the heroine of Bryn Greenwood’s third novel. That she fell in love at the age of eight with a man who was twenty and pursued him through years of trial and trouble is the (some would say) inappropriate subject of a novel so full of ugly and wonderful things. The truth is the inappropriate people in Wavy’s life were her parents and while doing the best she could, she found the perfect person for herself. read more

Seven poems on the fortifications of Cartagena, Spain

The Batteries of Aguilones and Conejo

2 batteries, abandoned villages
on hillsides looking out across the sea
linked by the tunnel of the wind, a pass.
Conejo as the name implies is full
of rabbits breeding merrily
Nobody shoots them there. It´s far too near
refineries. A spark could send those up
Did eagles fly over Aguilones once?
The only eagle left there is mosaic. read more

TOGETHER,

they rule the world of seduction, aiming to evade lonely masturbation as they parade through bars and clubs, nervous nerds peacocking their way to alpha, mocking targets in a bid for numbers and nymphae, sarging sets and placing bets on a full close (fucking that sexy 9 who wouldn’t look at you twice without your magic tricks who’s now sucking your dick because you used Takeaway and Sniper Neg). Fancy acronyms and fat phonebooks aside, all these men playing The Game are the same. Unable to trust in their own personalities, they set out to create Playboy realities in the minds of drunk chicks in bars, telling these 7s and 8s that their fates are written in the stars (’cause chicks dig astrology). All these lines for changing women’s minds are a front for poor socialisation, for a culture where domination is easier to embrace than self-acceptance (you daydream about fewer might-have-beens when it’s just a routine). All these men playing The Game are the same as us. They’re face with a familiar dilemma of desire: they want to be fucked, but they need to be wanted. read more

Glass Spiders

It begins with a splintering intersection of time and reality. The world shatters, seeks to cobweb, to consume the glass coffin that encases and confines. I inhale and hold and pray, but forget what I’m praying for? The sensation stalls like a pinched vein unable to release the life-giving blood within. But it hasn’t stopped. Not really. read more