Archive for Literary


    from tele mundo radio (in English)   I have found for you this desert version 1.1 As I plucked sylla bles from air (let me quickly add honey blue flowers My own ingredient to suit your taste, sweet girl)   I want you to like this poem about breakage and disconnection and static. I want […]


  2. ON THE TRAIN FROM DUNELLEN • by Lucy Gregg Muir 1 Comment

    Good morning, Padre, I say to myself when I see you.   I want to stop, to tell you I feel lucky on the mornings I see you in the distance, shoulders hunched in your black jacket, bucking the wind, black watch cap over your eyes, head down, pushing onward to the newsstand, to the coffee shop, to […]


  3. HOME TO IDAHO • by Des Dillon No Comments

    Flash!  An explosion obliterates me and I see a me-shaped vacuum before the truth rushes in.  Fly me-shaped vacuum to Idaho. Meet my wolfhound at the gate. He’ll whine in wonder, tuck his tail under and Abigail will come to the window. Let bluebirds fly through you in the garden warbling to warn her that […]


  4. PODS • by Des Dillon 2 Comments

    Green spiked sputnik pods meteorite and   pup   into mud.   I pluck one for my son. Thumbs pressing nails piercing the green world that   fell   through endless winds of Autumn. At the core are two brown shining skulls encasing the knowledge of how to be a chestnut tree.     Des […]


  5. THE RESCUE DOG • by Des Dillon 2 Comments

      Scout swallowed Ruby’s snaps and growls and barked them out as play. They’re curled exhausted now in the silence after the kettle has clicked. I settle to a full bright focus on the window-ledge plant vibrating green. I don’t know its name but still imagine it might secrete a certain chemical cure for mortal […]


  6. DAILY BREAD • by Des Dillon 6 Comments

    He fried eleven fish, fed us and said, Eat, I’ve knocked my fuckin pan in for this. But my altar boy ears heard;  Take this all of you and eat it. This is my body which will be given up for you daily in white hot steelworks and wet construction sites. His hands drove nails […]


  7. DOMESTIC • by John Richard Kenny 9 Comments

    Hands before him at the bar curl lifeless on a pint settling   Debris, folded paper, fags, lighter mark his territory, comforting   Barman silent witness to the unending cycle   Oh Jesus, Maggie, Jesus I’ll never, ever, ever   Hands before him stinging Knuckles raw red, bloody,   twitching in memory at what they’ve […]

    Literary, Relationships

  8. ON THE BEACH I, II, III • by janine baker 1 Comment

    (I)   Waiting for the ship…… you can mope about in mock solitude clothed in the shell of a sand blast safe, in silent grip of an Eon’s roar that laps this country with salty deference.   You can dwell on curiosities – focus your mind on the girdle of iron of a well-armoured chiton […]


  9. BOUNDARY • by RK Biswas 2 Comments

      The hour arrives, and you contrive to flee the madness of the silence following you like a newly hatched duckling, a piece of shell still stuck to its tail.   You run down the stairs as one possessed. A tether around your neck. A howl spiralling down your throat as you gape, but cannot […]


  10. OH, STAR. • by Lucy Gregg Muir No Comments

    Oh, star! Beyond my ken. Dead light lingers in time long gone, lost to other elements. To dust and air, and memory.   The alchemy of matter, one becomes another. Blood to ash. Bone to dust. Hope to light. Unweighable measures. Thought, and desire, and love.   I, by flesh confined, thoughts confused. I, with […]


« Previous Entries