MONOGRAPH is our regular Poetry feature, showcasing a group of themed poems by one poet in a mini pamphlet form, accompanied by photographs and / or illustrations. Our first collection of 2016, MONOGRAPH 2, features the award-winning…

MONOGRAPH is a new regular Poetry feature, showcasing a group of themed poems by one poet, in a mini pamphlet form, accompanied by photographs and / or illustrations. Our first outing, MONOGRAPH 1, features the work of Scottish poet,…

Headstuff writers revisit memorable horror movies in the run-up to Halloween. A brilliant horror that employs requisite jumpscares while portraying the impact of suppression and war trauma on people’s lives and psyche, Under the Shadow…

This October we asked our writers about their favourite examples of underrated horror: the underdog films that never got the recognition they deserved, the much maligned movies that are actually worthwhile despite the negative press, and…

Fifty-five years on from its initial release, watching Night of the Living Dead (1968) is exhilarating. The story of a group of strangers boarding themselves into an isolated farmhouse as a defence against hoards of shuffling zombies is so…

Some time before I left Ireland, I took a short holiday to Galway, the main town on the west coast. Walking along the Salthill Promenade, a scenic road that traces the northern shore of Galway Bay, I stumbled upon a nondescript, somewhat…

To Syrian Children You all are culpable— for wending your way to schools for going to hospitals, for playing in open spaces and for keeping at your dreams within a country in rags. Yes, you never knew that you would be going down with…

Tuam At Choeung Ek, our guide points out the sugar palm’s serrated bark good for cutting throats. In these fields a tree can be a knife. A mouth that knew only several joyful tastes of what should have been a lifetime’s sugar can…

Queer Reptile This is my season of alertness. We’re sorry, your call cannot be validated as dialled. I wouldn’t be caught dead without my Ray-Bans. Please check the number and dial again. My lime claws slip out from my pink…

The Imaginary Friend pinches inside the centre of my chest like an axial graph folded and ripped, an extradimensional shift to shit, cinched with the rented smile of a guest he suspects that his greatest achievement is unravelling…