Mask as Gargoyle by Celia Turner

[tabby title="Poem"] It was an N-95 with substance.Horns curled up threateningto self-cripple growing into eyesor in on themselvesuntil eating becomesimpossible. Yet it was a small thing of beautywith benign, kindly features,non-uniformly white,so much more thanphysical barrier,a totem lostits pole. [tabby...

The grape toast by Dark Plasma

[tabby title="Poem"] Memories are guestsCheers to the fermented laughterThe grape taste lingers [tabby title="Poet Bio"] I’m an aspiring writer. A sketch artist, painter and sculptor. A permanent resident of the Theta Theatre, I therefore dream a million times a day....

The Human Touch. Too Much? by Francis Conlon

[tabby title="Poem"] Is the human touch the Anthropocene age?Human progress (supposedly) on the march,Passing on to the new stage,A sift of view, with lots of starch. So much of Earth has man’s scar,Intense in times of revolution,Industry has carried us...

Curiosity of babies by Samkelo

[tabby title="Poem"] Do not touch.Do not eat.I repeat.Curiosity is a gift.Do not pick up dirt.I said do not touch.I said do not eat. [tabby title="Poet Bio"] BA graduate. I write. [tabbyending]

Out of Doors by Celia Turner

[tabby title="Poem"] I have never taken a trip I regret.I revel beneath a same skygiven way to blue. To see river vast,relentless wash of waves, foot to ground,pedal to metal, has been a blissI would never have forgone.Choice to be...