by Adeline Macdonald Clean steam iron the linen sheets, white and crisp and beautiful and without fault or fold White walls upon white walls with nothing to upset you or hurt you or make you cry or want to leave or want to think Do you love it? Is it…
by Courtney Edwards I am still idling in an azure sea and waiting for wind which moves me to adventure, the kind that Hydra deserves. I resent shadows of soaring seagulls encroaching on my cabin windows, mocking my failing wings. I mourn the mast, my eager sentinel who waves a…
by Courtney Edwards There’s a lot to be depressed about when you’re a lonely fruit fly and you can’t take the heat, walking slower toward the scientist’s open flame because you see the inevitable burn on your tiny body and still you must move forward Through magnified eyes they…