Spring 2021, Volume 30

Poetry by Cameron Morse

Side Effects

Antarctic shotgun 
tundra blasting
white sand

           fiber in my eyes
           [fiber optics]

layers of snow
flayed from roofs

           shelter in the shed
           with Theo



Symptom or side effect
I am beside
myself I am not my
self right now

washing machine
repeating the same cycle

spinning draining rinsing
again, again, &


how much riced
cauliflower will I scrape

with my bare hands
out of the sink

I poured it into before
I sink my head

into the polyester flap
of my bathrobe

hide my face in its
fuzzy wing


The self I am not I am

           I am bed          side

or at some unknown

A Ghost Story




BIO: Cameron Morse lives with his wife Lili and two children in Independence, Missouri. His poems have been published in numerous magazines, including New Letters, Bridge Eight, Portland Review and South Dakota Review. His first collection, Fall Risk, won Glass Lyre Press’s 2018 Best Book Award. His latest is Far Other (Woodley Press, 2020). He holds and MFA from the University of Kansas City—Missouri and serves as Senior Reviews editor at Harbor Review and Poetry editor at Harbor Editions.