Latest Writing
POETRY
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FIRST WINTER by Hala Alyan
Our bodies are urns full of rain, spilling during the harvest. The elders speak of clemency. The army marches on. We watch them across the ocean, speak their undead name in our sleep.
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TWO POEMS by Lee Sharkey
CIVILIZATION Even in the most inhospitable circumstances there is always time for a cup of tea. Say you live in a cup with a hole blasted in its side in a blasted landscape, by a blasted tree and an empty barrel.
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STACK OF BRIGHTNESS by Rosalynde Vas Dias
What do you know of the former beloved/still beloved? He lives in another city or speaks infrequently.
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