The sickly stomach heat
of inescapable guilt
pushes me through the door,
brick in belly, heart on sleeve,
succulent hors d’oeuvres for
ravenous vultures waiting
to cannibalise with freshly
sharpened fangs and claws. Continue reading “Reunion by V.C. McCabe”
Each eyelash severs me. One of them blinks and I am undone. I, whose mind leaps daily, o disciplined masochist, to the grief of parents who’ve lost children. I think of all those young eyes that will forever remain closed, never see their parents again, or be seen again, looked in the eye again by those who loved them. Continue reading “Shield by Matthew Jakubowski”
Dementia
come to mind cloud
come to cloud mind – Marie Ponsot
& every now
& then,
i sit by her feet, on her porch
never ever talking.
& together,
we watch the soughing
heavens mutter, str-
etching their
cotton-silvers
in lulls & retorts
of
nearly went & nearly wait
– crossed & crossed all over.
BURNING HOUSE PRESS 