[tabby title="Poem"] Handheld super dupercomputer, time-suckof attention, attenuatingour pistoning thumbs,pain radiating up toelbow, still can’t stop,Perpetually available,sawed-off shot gunblasted attentionspans spin outof control, toomuch know. [tabby title="Poet Bio"] Celia Turner is a Loveland published poet in Northern Colorado Writers and...

[tabby title="Poem"] Enough our fathers,the mother Mary’sgive me a nonbinary god—no sex to shift blame on. We’ve been wishing on starslong before Disney.Blowing out birthday candlesto beat the band—off cake since Covid. I hold the precarityof people lightlyknowing I don’t...

[tabby title="Poem"] Aotearoa, your spirit calls acrossthe sea,your long boats cut the waves,part the prairie grasses,we are one, life and death,long-suffering, triumphantthunder ripped asunder,star-shine together,Doers and Done-toabove the clouds. [tabby title="Poet Bio"] Celia Turner is a Loveland published poet in...

[tabby title="Poem"] When I opened my eyes in the Canyon,outside deep in the night,the moon had set. It seemed a hallucination,that somehow the canyonwas a telescopetransporting me closerthan I can ever remember to stars. Oh what stars! So large, so...

[tabby title="Poem"] There is something about low tide,an introduction to ocean,iodine of meaty seaweedwith its proliferation of sand fleas,flies of greedy garrulous Gulls,darting marooned minnowsshooting about like cometsin celestial pools, stumpsof feathery anemones cramming foodin their gaping mouths with pliant...