by Rachel Piercey | Jun 27, 2025 | Issue 9 poems
If I were a giant, I’d pop the clouds like balloons with my umbrella to make a clear blue sky. If I were a giant, I’d consume the whole moon in one big bite, replace it with a cherry pie. If I were a giant, I’d use a spoon to scoop up snow from rooftops, like vanilla...
by Rachel Piercey | Jun 27, 2025 | Issue 9 poems
I want to learn the Double Bass! Big Granddaddy of the strings. I’d grunt and growl and scrape and scowl And play the deepest things! I want to learn the Contrabassoon! The size of a rocket ship. It farts and parps and plops and honks, Each note I’d just let rip! I...
by Rachel Piercey | Jun 27, 2025 | Issue 9 poems
That thin black line has been my nemesis for a decade. It has taunted me from above. High and condescending as I rise on tiptoes but still come up short. I almost had it last year. The crown of my head broke past the barrier until someone shouted, “Flat feet!” I sank...
by Rachel Piercey | Jun 27, 2025 | Issue 9 poems
Mercury’s seeking speedy thrills on Orlando’s fastest rides Venus loves the cloudy Himalayan mountainsides Earth’s the life and soul of a party in Capri Mars has gone to Egypt to bob about in the Red Sea Jupiter’s baggage weighs it down on a tricky Outback stroll...
by Rachel Piercey | Jun 27, 2025 | Issue 9 poems
This poem begins with a quotation by John Ruskin “Nature is painting for us, day after day, pictures of infinite beauty.” Nothing is beyond her fresh, age-old hands: she scatters silvery stars across watercoloured oceans and inky midnight skies and chalks the feathery...
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