starlight | watercolor on paper
Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

life as a cephalopod – 10 'ku

the orcas return just a few deaths today 


another messiah
crawls out of the woodwork . . .
public lockdown


the key in your pocket dreams a kingdom of snakes


piles of red leaves hanging on the raven’s every word


out of the question a cockroach scuttles around


the rotten fruit birds eat my face


snowflakes under my city life as a cephalopod


the mermaid’s tongue her love letters become a swarm of bees


amber rain
a horde of ghosts roam
the clone factory


she comes downstairs
wearing nothing but a fox mask —
cabin fever

John McManus

wet feet between daffodils

fugue in concrete
the violets nobody planted

a birds whistle PERFECT
finding a golden coin in mud

cat’s best birthday ever

complex cloud patterns
someone’s new language
drifts high above

wooden terrace
the stupid goldfish jumps
out of his glass again

covid-19 or not
the birch has born
new petals

the spring-like smile
of an empty park bench

Isabella Kramer


blurred and sharp
its lack of shadow
or surface
is both tactile
and alien

that’s how I love
an off-world marriage
neo-phase datum

“terran du jour”
you say…
“au rapport du jour”

the octopads
change dna to match mine
different climates

who said three bears
couldn’t find each other
Goldilocks planet

Alan Summers