Water Damage
- 958 reads
Indelible
Image:
I can see your scars. They're in the way you talk, how you pull your sleeves down. How you slump. I can see your scars. They're in your stare. From...
- Read more about Indelible
- 5 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 1588 reads
Traffic
How many new cousins have you got? Four. Three with scars and sallow eyes. How many new sisters today? Dad's brought six. Four speak French and...
- Read more about Traffic
- 17 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 6764 reads
Compassion Fatigue
Hey you. Yeah you. I know your grandad died last night but conjugate this verb. Get into groups now. Group one: Data says you're the smart kids...
- Read more about Compassion Fatigue
- 7 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 2405 reads
Calloused to Birdsong
Image:
Draw a line. Scrape it through trees. Dissect mountains, valleys, lakes. Forget the sun, gaudy bauble, wasting rays whoring light and fix your border...
- Read more about Calloused to Birdsong
- 4 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 1651 reads
Surasawa Pond
By Surasawa pond on a billboard a holy man paints a lie: ‘On the third day of the third month the dragon of this pond will ascend to heaven.’ Two men...
- Read more about Surasawa Pond
- 9 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 2934 reads
The Princess of Odd Numbers
It’s getting dark. The cypresses, slender, respectful genuflect to the sunset, a horse’s eye in all its majesty. In their junctures, iced from winter...
- Read more about The Princess of Odd Numbers
- 1 comment
- Log in to post comments
- 804 reads
The Iceberg
https://www.thecalmzone.net/ #MARKYOURMAN
- Read more about The Iceberg
- 14 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 6692 reads
No Better Past (IP)
Sometimes, we find better selves like lost toys, as if we’ve dusted cobwebs to reveal old ribcaged hearts garbed in younger, rawer flesh that didn’t...
- Read more about No Better Past (IP)
- 13 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 3180 reads
vicarious trauma
i used to be able to repair myself sprout phantom limbs better versions now, i flick rocks at the faultlines and the whole thing caves it starts in...
- Read more about vicarious trauma
- 7 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 1990 reads
Stripling
I’ve never met you. But I want you to love me. You were me before I had formed my open church door of mouth my stripling heartstring. I had forgotten...
- Read more about Stripling
- Log in to post comments
- 499 reads
The ends of my world
I can’t feel the presence of a god here so keenly now that I can touch the ends of my world , run a finger across a drumlin of hallowed herringbone...
- Read more about The ends of my world
- 1 comment
- Log in to post comments
- 610 reads
Wear and tear (IP)
Image:
I’d driven for miles before I’d realised where. The camber of the road should have dumped me home, as always. It's just this normal stuff, like...
- Read more about Wear and tear (IP)
- 11 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 5874 reads
At five years of age
you told me that people are shaped like stars and I realised that nobody else gets to see this, gets to see you and what you are in the pauses, in...
- Read more about At five years of age
- 5 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 1368 reads
Aversion Therapy
These are the things that keep me up at night, all stitched together . I will say these words twice daily, gently, and watch them lose their power or...
- Read more about Aversion Therapy
- 6 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 1418 reads
He is. But he isn't. But he is.
- Read more about He is. But he isn't. But he is.
- 3 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 695 reads
Run
watch your hair fall out in those unfaced, blank slate sertraline dreams.
- Read more about Run
- 8 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 2185 reads
All that remains
So I tell group that sometimes the tightness feels like I’ve moved into the house across from you but the walls seem further away and I can't...
- Read more about All that remains
- 1 comment
- Log in to post comments
- 640 reads
Ode to a quince
O, so there’s this quince tree near our house, yeah? and the kids think the fruit’s some type of pear and I wanna tell em that it is cos they ask all...
- Read more about Ode to a quince
- Log in to post comments
- 576 reads
I didn’t take that picture
I didn’t take that picture through the hospital window. The one with the sign in the background, neon-green and sickly. The one with the airplane...
- Read more about I didn’t take that picture
- 2 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 981 reads
Distilled
Distilled At 23 I sat on a Ronda balcony watching a crane toil through a Spanish day with nothing but bad lager and a good friend. Propped up by a...
- Read more about Distilled
- 3 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 1037 reads
Stories I won't tell you.
Dada, what kind of baby was I? Do you remember me from back then? Was I terrible or was I just… I don’t know, just tell me how it feels? How it feels...
- Read more about Stories I won't tell you.
- 5 comments
- Log in to post comments
- 1330 reads