The Poetry Distillery is The Poetry Barn’s literary journal. Established in 2018, we harvest a diverse sampling of some the most exciting poems generated in our community, working closely with our authors to distill their poems to perfection as an extension of the workshop process.

While lawyers argue

I hang on

because someone needs to

notice hummingbirds nuzzling

fuchsia blossoms while blurry nurses

appear disappear between me and the

window pushing fluids in cups of piss-yellow

mystery cold condensation drips like tears

bent straws tick on teeth stick to swollen

lips sucking fumble-tongued

condition is critical

I must

watch squirrels scurry

taking care to spread limbs akimbo

before they soar aspen-to-aspen quake

orange leaves on landing head nurse hisses

‘shit I can’t believe last shift didn’t change

that bandage bedpan IV’ then the raw rip

of gauzy skin along thin line dividing live

tissue from dead deep bed sores

consume me

I marvel

as turquoise gem-eyed

dragonflies swoop at targets—there

there over there—only they can see why

is everything going wrong so fast we must

check Earth’s vital signs Her pulse is faltering

temperature rising total shut-down of all

systems is near nurse wakes me says

‘only a nightmare’ asks do I feel

well enough to have a visitor

I try to


hang on

to words of smiling lawyer

‘we won the case a million for you

before fees of course no admission of

guilt for those three lost babies your dead

spouse’ the smile fades when iridescent fog

rolls in again from good poison meant to fix

effects of bad poison that seeped from

factory to faucet to water we drank

as if our lives didn’t depend on it

makes me retch

vomit choke

I wave

lawyer away see tawny

raccoons claw-tick across asphalt

metallic gleam of green bottle-flies hobo

spider’s funnel web capture unwary prey like

us snared by bad actors in silky harlequin suits

who toss remediation trinkets—chump change—

and hide behind corporate masks it doesn’t

matter now words mean nothing I must

focus on osprey soaring water ouzels

dipping dancing diving wild into

the world while it is and

I am still here


Kate Boyes is a speculative nature writer who focuses on the near-future environments of Earth, Mars, and several choice exoplanets. Her work is included in Climbing Lightly Through Forests, a poetry anthology honoring Ursula K. Le Guin, and will be published in the upcoming 2023 Horror Writers Association Poetry Showcase X. Her debut novel Trapped in the R.A.W., was published by Aqueduct Press.

Alpha Lineage

Placenta Honey