WILL STONE applauds the anniversary tour of Pills 'n' Thrills and Bellyaches by Madchester icons, Shaun and Bez
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England, the Old People’s Home
JAN WOOLF invigilates images that meditate on Palestine, and the people who witness them
A murderous convention of crime writers, a hymn to nursing, a monster hunt, and robber baron capitalism
MARY CONWAY is disappointed by a three-hander that broaches big themes, but doesn’t transcend dry academia
DAN GLAZEBROOK eavesdrops on the bourgeois intelligentsia and the stories it tells itself at this moment of crisis
JAN WOOLF is bowled over by a major retrospective for the YBA artist
My mother walks cold corridors, lost
underneath a mask. Bends to do her dirty work,
Picking up white people’s shit.
Not a metaphor, how she feels about this land,
but a turd left on the floor, her duty done with care
as another wreck of bones squats
to release his thoughts about the influx —
Why are there so many blacks?
The mask stops her from howling in response.
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