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BURNING HOUSE PRESS

Not For Profit/For Prophecy

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guestmapule

Riverbed Reunion by Abiodun Usman

Very soon,  I will embrace my wife again as a farmer embraces the rainy season, or, like a groom embraces his new bride. I will be drenched in water. A sorrow–hidden moment it will be, just like January 1st, 2005. That was the last day I saw her heavy dimples and swollen abdomen. 

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Shore by Abdulbaseet Yusuff

  1. To say I love you is to say you have flooded

my knee with rain 

: is to say the viscosity of my synovial fluid

has been adulterated & I have lost anchorage

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Summoning by Laurie Koensgen

Ridges in my fingernails––   

worrisome trenches, etchings that  

presage diseases and loss, niches where 

suspicion insinuates itself. Instead I summon:  

ridges of my knuckles, thumb-tucked fists,   

taut brown skin tallowed over the bone   

as I brace to take on the icy lake, 

to punch the water’s skin; 

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‘Nceba, mzala’ by Perfect Hlongwane

Son of my favorite aunt,

I greet you from above the waters;

Waving but not drowning.

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‘bit the water’ by J.I. Kleinberg

blue groaning
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Fear Thyself by Stephen Embleton

I lie on the bottom of the pool, my back resting lightly on the rough, cool marbelite; staring motionless up at the surface of the water. Four feet of water separates me from fresh, breathable air.

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Kids

I became a widow at the tender age of nine.

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A tale of three descendants

always.the.same.year (2020), 2048×2048, digital: Here our faces plunge into the endless vanity of social media until the bubbles stop. Our digital selves/saviors are the ones bleeding sanity from our tarnished skin.
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this body sinks in a dead sea

ghost undead

i still ache for emptiness like i

             would silence in a 

                    sequence of 

                         sighs.

Continue reading “this body sinks in a dead sea”

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