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BURNING HOUSE PRESS

Not For Profit/For Prophecy

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prison

3 poems by Ashley Miranda

(Photo by Nowshad Arefin on Unsplash

oh my eurydice
–––after arcade fire, for don

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Watching The World Fly By by Melanie Davies

Watching the World Fly By

The clock chimed seven …ding…ding…ding… and so on, until it let out one final loud ding that woke Forbes with a start. He shuffled slightly and managed to stretch his front and back legs just enough to prevent the cramp from setting in. He meowed happily as he heard the familiar whirring sound. His morning feed came shooting through the food hatch and plopped into his dish in a brown lumpy mush.

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