Category: Issue Three
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Morning
By Kim Waters The bed slopes towards morning and I hang on to the fringes of a dream, waiting for the day to unfurl like a leaf on the ground.
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Fear
By Bill Cotter On the cliff edge, Dawn’s grey ghosts, the steely eyed gulls, Are testing their wings.
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Ballroom Echoes
By Robert James Conlon We only dance in our memories now The song is forgotten the melody lost In a ghost of movements. Image by: Michael D Beckwith
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The Lines We Make
By Robert James Conlon
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Wasted
By Lyn Chatham At four am Seb cooks dinner in his minimalist mock kitchen.
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The Sorrows of Soggy Sam Sulfur
By Oscar O’Neill-Pugh Rats stuck in burning trees, Poisoned vultures in the air vent. You still think of me as your good Sheppard, Even though I’m hell-sent.
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Gobble Gobble (The Wild Turkey Calls)
By Oscar O’Neill-Pugh I sit almost naked to the world, Towel hanging loosely to my loins. Dead muses acting as my butcher and to the bottle, my hand rejoins.