Ilona Lowe is an author and visual artist. She is a 23 year old immigrant living in the UK. Her work has been featured in Letters From Milena Magazine, and Dirty Dykes Magazine. She has been shortlisted for the ‘Then and Now’ TogetherInTheUk poetry prize.

Yan Sison is a poet based on the traditional, ancestral, and unceded territory of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations. Some of his works were published in Pearls, a creative writing anthology.

Kalvin M. Madsen is a fiction writer and poet living in Pasadena CA, and is the EIC of Low Hanging Fruit. His short story collection Hello, Receiver was released in 2019, and his upcoming poetry collection “Reasoning Machine” is set to release later this year.

Ilona Lowe is an author and visual artist. She is a 23 year old immigrant living in the UK. Her work has been featured in Letters From Milena Magazine, and Dirty Dykes Magazine. She has been shortlisted for the ‘Then and Now’ TogetherInTheUk poetry prize.

Ilona Lowe is an author and visual artist. She is a 23 year old immigrant living in the UK. Her work has been featured in Letters From Milena Magazine, and Dirty Dykes Magazine.

The author, Chukwuka Chinakwe is a gifted poet and philosopher, with a large collection of anthologies to his name. He trained as an architect bagging a masters degree from the federal university of technology, Akure, Ondo State in Nigeria.

Yan Sison is a poet based on the traditional, ancestral, and unceded territory of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations. Some of his works were published in Pearls, a creative writing anthology.

Kalvin M. Madsen is a fiction writer and poet living in Pasadena CA, and is the EIC of Low Hanging Fruit. His short story collection Hello, Receiver was released in 2019, and his upcoming poetry collection “Reasoning Machine” is set to release later this year.

Yan Sison is a poet based on the traditional, ancestral, and unceded territory of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations. Some of his works were published in Pearls, a creative writing anthology.

Cody Cook is a writer based out of St. Louis, Missouri. He has been published by Farewell Transmission and Blood + Honey Lit Mag. His first chapbook, Kenosis, is forthcoming. He is the founder of Dozing Penitent Productions which can be found on most socials under @dozingpenitent

The author, Chukwuka Chinakwe is a gifted poet and philosopher, with a large collection of anthologies to his name.

What drove him to kill a man?

The reason I couldn't write a love poem was because I didn't know how.

I got to know my ghosts, they were apologetic and proud.

In his confinement, the caged man sat at his desk, coupled with crumpled papers and ink, for he is a writer, and he writes of the things he sees through his shrouded window that sits across the vast ocean.

A little birdy once told me That they were paid to live in that cage

Daydreaming's got me thinking Of life's biggest meanings Are there real happy endings Or is it all a bust? Please don't tell me everything happens for a reason I can't believe that it does Oh what I wouldn't give to know what comes next after this I'd rather not be surprised, when there's so much on the line I welcome the sound of spoiler alerts, so I can be prepared for what hurts The world's a dark place, so I'll keep the light on Hoping you'll find me and come running I'll

I crossed the point of no return, years ago presently, I am not sure where this path leads I do know that I can’t turn back

I remember your big gray bike with the breaks at the hands. I took it once, and walked it up Victoria Point.

Still I will write, if only to pity the fool who scorns the Olympiad for taking the dive into the dozen meters of water below for playing in puddles, while they toy with the water’s surface from the coping with the tip of their pinky finger. Still I will write, though I must weep too for the monkeys that ever starve as naught a morsel of food lies on the ground yet over their heads is a tree of fresh fruits that remains disregarded, even despite their expert ability to climb