issue 4 – Page 2 – swim meet lit mag

Dave Clark

‘You know that phone plan? The one I got a month ago?’

How could I forget? He’d banged on about it ‘til kingdom come.

‘Well, there was a catch. At the end of all that small writing.’

Melanie Hobbs

That year my aunty passed away from a sudden arrhythmia. For the first time in my life there wasn’t an adult in the world who understood me.

Nnadi Samuel

I run out of ways to midwife safely, the delicate stream that burdens my core:

Sam Morley is a poet whose work has been published in a number of journals including Cordite, Red Room Poetry, Canberra Times, The Australian, Overland, Westerly, Southerly, Plumwood Mountain, takahē (NZ), and Antipodes (US).

Seth Robinson

The boat arrives at sunset, pulling in under a fruit salad sky. Pineapple, melon, grapefruit and mango, all layered under coconut clouds.

Aries M Gacutan

contusion /
first bruise in a year /
& it’s nestled right up near my knee

Em Readman

I pull up the pots and watch the silt sediment bloom around my ankles, then settle. The crabs have wedged between the netting, grasping the chunks of baitfish Jean cut up yesterday morning. The pot is teeming with them.

Sharlene Allsopp

In Flanders fields my Poppy bled