Two poems by Ken Evans

In Zero Gravity If ever you are sucked out into space by an ill-judged partnership, a scheming co-worker, the belligerent family member, you’ll know what love spurned feels like: your eyes bulge but cannot shed tears, out beyond the troposphere. The moisture on your tongue boils, blood does not flow. You lose what’s down or up, the cognisance of arms and legs, vacuum-sealed in the … Continue reading Two poems by Ken Evans

Three poems by Morgan Harlow

  Starlings the bird of her life she realized now feeling déjà vu as she watched them chirp their way through the cattail marsh geese honking overhead. Overturning leaves with their dark pointed beaks their heads the iridescent blue of bottle flies their under feathers fan out almost adorably like a yellow Easter chick’s in the spring breeze— and then fall flat again.   (first … Continue reading Three poems by Morgan Harlow