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BURNING HOUSE PRESS

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The Arsonist

‘bit the water’ by J.I. Kleinberg

blue groaning
Continue reading “‘bit the water’ by J.I. Kleinberg”

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.

Continue reading “Fear Thyself by Stephen Embleton”

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.
Continue reading “A tale of three descendants”

Two Poems by Heather Quinn

cof

PTSD

fine body hairs twitch

preparing for something

past feel of foil clenched

 between gnashed teeth

tungsten singed to hip socket

powered by whipsaws

Continue reading “Two Poems by Heather Quinn”

Monstrous Woman by Leanne Moden

I want to be a Monstrous Woman

To speak out of turn

To take up space

To scandalise tabloid newspapers

 

I want to question authority

To win more fights than I lose

To take my fair share

And allow you to take yours too

 

I want never to apologise for myself again

Continue reading “Monstrous Woman by Leanne Moden”

Sh-Boom by Mare Leonard

Do the three blondes sipping Ombre Pink Drinks

believe they’re on break from coding at Fitbit

or know they flew the coop, birds with lonely wings. Continue reading “Sh-Boom by Mare Leonard”

Make A Way If There Isn’t One by Heather Saunders Estes

Finders of hidden places,

young children, explorers, climbers,

crawl under fence wires, dig, cut,

trespass on private property, Continue reading “Make A Way If There Isn’t One by Heather Saunders Estes”

Dreaming St. Conan’s Kirk by Ever Dundas

When I was nine, I dreamed of going to Mars. I dreamed of being swept away to fantastical lands. I dreamed of joining David at Groosham Grange, and travelling with Sarah in her quest to the Goblin City. I’m still a dreamer, but I no longer dream of escape. The ordinary and the fantastical inhabit the same world. There are ghosts, vampires, goblins, cyborgs, and aliens round every corner, lurking down every close. There are mermaids and krakens in the ocean, dragons in the sky. Continue reading “Dreaming St. Conan’s Kirk by Ever Dundas”

Static In The Bones by Amy Kinsman

some nights i, molested by some

morbid desire, stand before my mirror

and examine myself: my chest, my breasts,

 

two halves divorced, barren land between.

Continue reading “Static In The Bones by Amy Kinsman”

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