by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
Mr Frisby had a grizzly but the bear was in a tizzy, felt his fur was way too frizzy, all the frizzy made him dizzy and his chin was fuzzy wuzzy. “Don’t you stress,” said Mr Frisby, “we can sort this in a jiffy”, gave the bear a quick shampooey (gosh, the soap was...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
Sssss — the electrophonic sizzle-hiss of light as a meteor turning earthwards burns bright* Urp — the burp of a black hole following swallowing an entire solar system of gaseous giants in one gargantuan gravitational gulp Rise — the silent dawn chorus of a myriad of...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
Nobody expects an axolotl You’re swimming along, then suddenly, oh! It pops like a genie from a bottle But in the wild there are not a lotl Unless you are in Lake Xochimilco* Nobody expects an axolotl Looks cute but it’s a tiny cannibl All colours and shades, to...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
When Mum first brought her home from the hospital, I asked if they did returns You know, like when you get a refund within 30 days No questions asked But Mum laughed and said it was just a shock A bit of a surprise I’d grow to love her That first night she wailed like...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
Mom can never be surprised. She is immune. She is always prepared. She always knows when anyone gifts her anything. “That is a dry fruit box inside. That is a sweet box.” “That is a sari. That is a diary for the New Year.” “That is a book. This is a clock. This will...
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