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Month: December 2017

protest

Posted on 29/12/2017 by Mark Prisco

Untimely death! The dog knows it, the owl predicts it; even the cat flaps an ear in its sleep, but you   know nothing about it, laid there as if. Did the crossword, picked a scab, your teeth. WT   F: I surmise WT deal is, why you crapped out – like a bulb  …

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house of ‘fab’

Posted on 28/12/2017 by peterlebaige

house of ‘fab’* to Paul McCartney at Mt. Smart           when was a boy who swam out of dreams every morning who couldn’t swim who played so hard in the dusk and ate like a dinosaur, one night i first heard you in our kitchen on the old black bakelite radio,…

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Breazey Dream

Posted on 24/12/2017 by Editor

To walk in a field of dandelions and tall grass It was all going fine until we broke our backs He’s stuck there still trying to figure it out A dream catches a breeze Out the door and down the road she goes To begin living our dreams we must first wake up Modes of…

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my situation

Posted on 22/12/2017 by Mark Prisco

Two blackbirds, a speckled thrush & a myna casually shit upon the deck regular each morning, peck the wooden cat bowls & when I surprise them, leave.   I end up with these friends. I’m no Snow White but I do like to feed them which is my fault, I know. But who knows, because…

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afterlife

Posted on 21/12/2017 by Mark Prisco

Who will know what you did, the pride you felt.   It’s quiet when you’re gone. There’s nothing to do & no-one to talk to.   But dream. Maybe our lives unwind, slowly.

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The Field

Posted on 19/12/2017 by john keast

Flanks twitch, gleam under winter sun horses – six a team, trailing chain and line, surge across the land; the ploughshare folds deep dark soil. Ten thousand feet trampled this earth; the ploughman, hat down and hands aloft, brings up the scent of time

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sound

Posted on 19/12/2017 by Mark Prisco

She cuts the waves so fine & the sea breathes long grass stilled & blows.   You could stray in a sea of wheat all day if there’s nothing more or walk behind the street an ear for the waves of her feet as she goes. she                                                                                                                               as

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necklace

Posted on 17/12/2017 by Mark Prisco

I count the beads on your string as your lips form shapes which give substance to the emptiness of air, & meaning. I go   on like this, hours, fingering your pearls, feel minutes drop, lose my way & when you’re still, it’s like everything else is.  

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not telling

Posted on 14/12/2017 by peterlebaige

not telling when i returned the land came closer the trees  gusted near me the moon as though nothing more than a small summer cloud through broad daylight watched me the land was ready to tell me the great secret since i had come then it all turned away in shadow from me nothing said….

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temple

Posted on 12/12/2017 by Mark Prisco

even the birds need to shut up.   everyone does & everything.   long live silence! with my ear muffs   on so tight not even light can escape them.   they’re industrial. all i hear is the throb   of my head, if that.

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2 sisters

Posted on 10/12/201714/12/2017 by Mark Prisco

When i got there she was on her back & her sister   who’s like eighty herself wasn’t much help. We pulled her   up but she died & after that i thought about it, her stiff   board, the flaked bits of her skirt & cardigan, the stink of   dog, how heavy she…

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the worm behind the man

Posted on 08/12/2017 by Mark Prisco

When you look at me you see the glass   only. When you split   my head/ knead the bits… what is it   but nerves of a smile, words   in the dark if I must, bend.

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