Hattie

She paints religious scenes, dabs around a glaze, echoes a thirty-year dream, regards a piece she’s honed, feels joy in this frame, it’s never set in stone, yellow shafts of sunbeams, cold studio's just the same, images she puts in scenes, the canvas could be foam, a stretch on wooden nails, nights before she goes home, a matchstick in the sea, bobbing without a flame, floating for eternity, her clothes hand me down, waits for end of day, drinks in this ocean town, her head nods in relief, dancing eyes can play, artists are never easy, all fail the ame.

Gia

Living here's no paradise, it’s always in the news, people aren’t very nice, might as well be jail, pavement’s stick like glue, love’s a broken name, all I want's a better life, show what I can do, instead of needing respite, my songs are well regaled, all the arias too, pity I can't escape, this cesspit full of lies, little images made of you, don't ask me why, what has been created, boils like mutton stew, know I’m not an easy play, being home's no searchlight, when it beams on truth, in the lilac evening light, there's no pretty hue.

Frannie

She says a dawn novena, worries about her feet, wonders who will see her, love is a trap door, knows what secrets to keep, hangs around the floor, every tune's a trigger, s golden shuffle conceit, hard times for soul singers, hope rises at the shore, but when night turn green she tends to pray alone, is God having a snigger, to ignore her depth of need, no test is ever bigger, perhaps a communion order, even a slow retreat, tells her the score, lets her dream.

Emma

Will he drop me now, make me drink more drink, sit up and say wow, if i should stand here, tell what he's thinking, maqybe something's there, his eyes a surly brown, they twitch at my blink, never on their own, the best of him appears, to drain sun’s sinking, should I disappear, like a bilbous bow, groans through the clinker, he freezes my horizon, don't need eyes of deer, let alone a shrink, to see what’s clear, love's always a trick.

Daisy

I walk without fear, down these broken roads, mother's words hush dear, wondering what I know, whose hand do i hold, which house is my home, that photograph there, it looks so alone, find a place for it here, hand to my heart now, seems made of stone, even my head feels closed, I had no idea, in shirt and belt low, why no one comes near, it's really no joke, more than being jealous, want to nurture my soul, without bying trouble.

Ciara

How does my hardness look, white face'd curled lips, sheets we carefully unhook, time hung out to dry, bars red wine to sip, geese flap in the sky, startled by a river's look, hear the sound of ships, Nana used salt to shook, cigarette papers we roll sly, cosy pictures in the skip, dappled maritime lines, our Ma's whose lives we took, making bath house trips, while I sat there cooked, are you happy on happy signs, do we continue to live in sin, fresh linen makes me cry, eyes open adrift.

Britney

My time goes by unspoken, afraid of family especially Da, our barns closed and broken, it doesn't take much memory, bent as a bell jar, to mark a sense of pity, depends which hand you hold, inside a smoky station bar, Poker leaves me cold, you run like a refugee, chase some foreign star, start with what's done to me, the days scatter and unfold, no one seems to care, or hear my silent roar, a crime is seen as comedy, they say buy a new car, let go and rest easy, love never travels far.