All that disposable love, a socially distant memory when you have to stay two metres away. All that stockpiled latex …
Rules For A Plague Year. A poem by Jesse Pikul
Do not dry your tears. You cannot touch your face. Let them dry or hold them. Risk of exposure outweighs …
Unfathomable. A poem by Angela Kay
Time hasn’t stopped. It drags on and on, elongating, one moment stretching into the next, indescifrable. Our dreams hover, day-old …
Uncovering. A poem by Jesse Pikul
apocalypse means “to uncover”, derived from dead languages, never buried, translucent with etymological pain. spring means it all rises, scabbed …
These are the delay days. A poem by Anne Donnellan
Sheltered like cattle in slatted sheds, we wait for shift of winter’s wickedness. Yard brush shoved deep in our notion …