Kate MacAlister
Writer, Social Justice Witch and biomedical scientist Kate MacAlister discovered the art of poetry as a healing ritual many years ago. Her poems conjure spell-binding images of intricate inner worlds and the struggles in our contorted society. She tells stories inspired by her work that have been published in various online literary journals and printed anthologies. Whether it is her work in the hospital or fighting the patriarchy: above all these are stories about human connection and the dreams of revolution.
“seen // unsent”
it split my lip // I will always be a little bit in love with you… too
just a little bit // more and we would witness the shadows of
some sort of situation alienated // a surplus fairytale of a couple of normative years
just a little bit // more and we would witness the shadows of
some sort of situation alienated // a surplus fairytale of a couple of normative years
Poetry
Issue 60, April 2022
Issues Archive
“not all men,” “Hover | Fly” and “Comrades and Cotton Sheets”
I dig for shelter
in a homespun
endometrial layer
each new moon
like the first rain
each crimson drop
seething…
in a homespun
endometrial layer
each new moon
like the first rain
each crimson drop
seething…
Poetry
Issue 52, August 2021
Issues Archive
Kate MacAlister
Writer, Social Justice Witch and biomedical scientist Kate MacAlister discovered the art of poetry as a healing ritual many years ago. Her poems conjure spell-binding images of intricate inner worlds and the struggles in our contorted society. She tells stories inspired by her work that have been published in various online literary journals and printed anthologies. Whether it is her work in the hospital or fighting the patriarchy: above all these are stories about human connection and the dreams of revolution.
“seen // unsent”
it split my lip // I will always be a little bit in love with you… too
just a little bit // more and we would witness the shadows of
some sort of situation alienated // a surplus fairytale of a couple of normative years
just a little bit // more and we would witness the shadows of
some sort of situation alienated // a surplus fairytale of a couple of normative years
Poetry
Issue 60, April 2022
Issues Archive
“not all men,” “Hover | Fly” and “Comrades and Cotton Sheets”
I dig for shelter
in a homespun
endometrial layer
each new moon
like the first rain
each crimson drop
seething…
in a homespun
endometrial layer
each new moon
like the first rain
each crimson drop
seething…
Poetry
Issue 52, August 2021
Issues Archive