In the latest issue:

Boris Johnson’s First Year

Ferdinand Mount

Short Cuts: In the Bunker

Thomas Jones

Theban Power

James Romm

What can the WHO do?

James Meek

At the Type Archive

Alice Spawls

Where the Poor Lived

Alison Light

At the Movies: ‘Da 5 Bloods’

Michael Wood

Cultural Pillaging

Neal Ascherson

Jenny Offill

Adam Mars-Jones

Shakespeare v. the English

Michael Dobson

Poem: ‘Now Is the Cool of the Day’

Maureen N. McLane


David Trotter

Consider the Hare

Katherine Rundell

How Should I Refer to You?

Amia Srinivasan

Poem: ‘Field Crickets (Gryllus campestris)’

Fiona Benson

Diary: In Mali

Rahmane Idrissa

Two PoemsJoe Dunthorne

The Old Days

Remember when everyone on earth
was pregnant except for you
which was a miracle

and the babies jangled down on their cords
like oxygen masks during unplanned
cabin decompression

and all language was lost to the cutesy voice.
Woo are so wucky, everyone explained
while you adopted

the brace position, amazed at the serenity
that comes from looking after


As a privilege
of my nearly hairless body
I invite ancient men to my bed.

We sleep top-tails
but sometimes spoons.
I make them keep their World War I coats on.

They whisper
about camp latrines, executions
at dawn, the smell beneath their bandages.

They only perk up
when I interpret their dreams
which are always fiendishly literal.

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