Marie-Louise Eyres received her MFA in 2020 after a multiple brain tumor diagnosis in 2018. Her chapbooks include Wolf Encounters (Maverick Duck), When we lived in LA (Alien Buddha), Little, Animal (Ghost City), Seed (Alien Buddha), Into a Salt Marsh Heart (Finishing Line) and Patient (Alien Buddha). She lives in California with her family.
Los Angeles & Santa Barbara
Los Angeles to Santa Barbara
Art
Issue 83, May 2024
“Brood X”
Each insect turns a fraction on its axis, a cocooned child shifting in a half-sleep,
oblivious beyond cool mud to flames of wildfires as they streak across the hills
of Paradise.
oblivious beyond cool mud to flames of wildfires as they streak across the hills
of Paradise.
Poetry
Winter 2024: Climate Crisis
“In another time, in another place,” “The walking fish” and “Under the bone”
My skull is thin as twice an ostrich egg,
a finite orb. But buried dark and thick
a universe of tiny stars sits cheek
by jowl beside grey matter, like blinking
fireflies in the branches of a pine tree
after dusk. This is no special magic.
a finite orb. But buried dark and thick
a universe of tiny stars sits cheek
by jowl beside grey matter, like blinking
fireflies in the branches of a pine tree
after dusk. This is no special magic.
Poetry
Issue 23, March 2019
Marie-Louise Eyres
Marie-Louise Eyres received her MFA in 2020 after a multiple brain tumor diagnosis in 2018. Her chapbooks include Wolf Encounters (Maverick Duck), When we lived in LA (Alien Buddha), Little, Animal (Ghost City), Seed (Alien Buddha), Into a Salt Marsh Heart (Finishing Line) and Patient (Alien Buddha). She lives in California with her family.
Los Angeles & Santa Barbara
Los Angeles to Santa Barbara
Art
Issue 83, May 2024
“Brood X”
Each insect turns a fraction on its axis, a cocooned child shifting in a half-sleep,
oblivious beyond cool mud to flames of wildfires as they streak across the hills
of Paradise.
oblivious beyond cool mud to flames of wildfires as they streak across the hills
of Paradise.
Poetry
Winter 2024: Climate Crisis
“In another time, in another place,” “The walking fish” and “Under the bone”
My skull is thin as twice an ostrich egg,
a finite orb. But buried dark and thick
a universe of tiny stars sits cheek
by jowl beside grey matter, like blinking
fireflies in the branches of a pine tree
after dusk. This is no special magic.
a finite orb. But buried dark and thick
a universe of tiny stars sits cheek
by jowl beside grey matter, like blinking
fireflies in the branches of a pine tree
after dusk. This is no special magic.
Poetry
Issue 23, March 2019