Two prose poems by Mike Estabrook

Hot Air BalloonsFall has begun, crisp out there and even though it is warm as a robin’s nest it feels like the beginning of fall that impending feeling hanging poised in the air like a fleet of hot air balloons motionless in the sky. I took in the hoses and the...

Two pieces by Ivor Murrell

All for thirty YuanCrossing Tian Na Menfluttering midnight kites soarabove the rickshawWho flies kites at night?Somewhere on the darkened squaredreams tug on taut stringsAt a funeral of the previous generation(For Jamie and Rupert, with confidence! February 11th...