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thinner than water

Posted on 19/09/2020 by peterlebaige

thinner than water                        lament for a civil war                        Greece, 1943 – 1949 there was blood in the Aoos, the Aliakmonas, the Pineios, the Enipeas, the Evrotas, the Acheron, there was blood in crumbling…

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Her Classroom Breath #2

Posted on 19/09/202005/11/2020 by Dean English

tweens, twinks, milfs and cougars, silver bears, foxes brightly shaved and the babies, even-footed, holding on at the moving knees— nearly everyone has stood up to watch the action in the dojo; a few kids, and myself remain seated an arm’s length from everything Arse. lycra, denim; deeptoe Compression’s complete picture, this toned mature, on…

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The Grim Reaper

Posted on 16/09/2020 by gizzyblue

Empty buses trundling by – I watch from my balcony and sigh – Empty shops – Empty roads – Eerily apocalyptic – A war zone – No bombs dropping from the sky – Tis a silent creeper – This grim reaper – Wearing the mask of a clown – Atishoo Atishoo – We all fall…

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electioneering

Posted on 15/09/2020 by Mark Prisco

make me great again. lock the door when you walk in but talk. only   surprise me with (flowers, shoots like ligatures on the wrist with-)   strained visions. an image, not the stuffed bear   on the clothesline; a wire where a light was. make me new.   days have soared/hours wound so long…

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her classroom breath

Posted on 15/09/202022/09/2020 by Dean English

her classroom breath her boney cheek a child groins my cottoned hip river banks the tint of clay rock and flowers the wind devours blossom, ripped, resisting holds, vivid vivid blood on gi. cut from cheek to chin as I fell into his hand misreading what his move was the bleeding stopped another girl goes…

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The Tron

Posted on 14/09/2020 by Dove Grey

The river gurgles deep, Although from the warrant-of-fitness station, I cannot see it.   Concrete and steel. “Look here! Look at that!” Calls a boy in an army surplus shirt. Oil in the drain. “That’s the river! It goes right there!” Pointing downwards with his index finger.   That night, after the admonition, A mihi…

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comunità

Posted on 13/09/2020 by Mark Prisco

you need a swift kick & told to keep moving. better to spend yrself than to suck the dugs of the last half century. it comes   spectacular, the destruction of the world. theatre. when satan fell, for instance – what a fucken day that was! planets wandered & the stars did nothing, nailed to…

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Haruspex Rex

Posted on 10/09/2020 by Sommer Cullingford

Absolved across the vast pearl of a horse’s hide, you flung from its eye and burst in like a bad neighbour overbears on brittle moments to where there is only me: runes, ruins, landscapes beyond the skin outwit by a wisdom of hips, deep into my liver’s wet stars. Tiny maelstroms of joy run slick…

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The Freesias

Posted on 02/09/2020 by Sommer Cullingford

There’s mockery in the freesia’s gruesome balm, perennial bells giggle a divine perfume that taunts the shedding skin of winter-tide winds, it cloys like the clock-handed grip of tick-tocks trickling down the back of each gust – their petals crushed; bruised, feathery cherubs shield stamen-eyed babies and ripen to the doomful horns I decapitate at…

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Remembering Joseph Kühtze

Posted on 29/08/202029/08/2020 by emjay

Expired blue cans of Rheineck. Left overs from a secret Santa gift. Only four would fit in the cheap blue chilly bin. Jimmy had just turned eighteen, stoked to get a chilly bin of beer. I ended up firing him later that year. So there’s still two blue cans cheap faux-Germanic even the schlöss can’t make…

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thirst

Posted on 26/08/2020 by peterlebaige

thirst i thirst  for the  w   a    t    e     r       that  lay s ________________________the     sk  y    bac k under  the     o  a   r       under   the  stroke of  d  a  r   k   that   r i ses   on the   s m o o t  h the   sk  y        a   dance    down      in  blue i thirst   for the…

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Pre-Cortex Lands #4

Posted on 25/08/202026/08/2020 by Dean English

1 I’d planned to sleep in but I was wide awake at five so I teased the mortal seam churning a little, thinking of all the girls I’ve spanked, before rising, sprung as a catapult & stood against the wall three recent paintings. water had found a way to let itself in through the unfinished…

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