poem with audio by Melissa Mann the bag she keeps her mind in hangs off her zimmer frame, the crash barrier that goes everywhere with her. she’s sat down on herself, a high seat chair with her name written in blue biro on a strip of Elastoplast stuck to the backrest. ninety three, maud braithwaite [...]

Check Out by Melissa Mann  I’ve been in ASDA for eight minutes, wiping the soles of my best shoes on the entrance mat. It takes it out of me all that wiping, so I rest on my stick and look to see if she’s still on the five items or less till. I smooth a [...]