Issue Eight:

By Ben Gwalchmai

The indifferent scale.
The quarry, the calcite,
the silicon, the mine,
the lorry, the sulphite,
nanocarbon, the time.

Yet you breed.

Overuse, worlds of health.
The mangroves, the fishing,
the resulting, the dams,
the lostwove, the locking,
polyhalite, the cans.

Yet you survive.

You see all this, all this loss,
and somehow scavenge a thriving
from our killing your home.

You are enough to give a man hope.

About the Contributor

Ben Gwalchmai is a maker, worker, & writer who was W.N.O.’s writer-in-residence, a Historical Novel Society ‘Editor’s Pick’ for his novelĀ Purefinder, and a shortlisted poet in the Melita Huma Poetry Prize 2016.

Losslit canon

The Complete Stories - Amy Hempel

he's the best damn short story writer I've ever known and her works - short, sharp knives or memories or forgivings and graces - have the most remarkable habit of leaving you both bereft and elated at your loss, knowing you've somehow sluiced someone's else's loss [or shame or need] with them. When they're not loss, they're the pollen in the hot air bringing the gnats to frenzy, gifting you the sight as you read in the shade. This collection is, quite simply, heartbreaking. For all the best reasons.

See all entries in the Losslit canon

More from Issue Ten: