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Ribbons
She's been popping them out for thirty odd years She's out in the street, gone and her feet are cut to ribbons.
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- 1114 reads
The Chauncellor
He's round the back smoking crack with underage girls Writing heartache manifestos we'll roll up our sleeves and say “bloody” smiling on production lines holding up his little red box.
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- 686 reads
Seeing Clouds, Seeing Crumbs
I see bleached dry bones; picked clean by wild dogs the valley echoes with their howls
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- 1193 reads
Winning
Love is fierce, a fire. Can you feel it burning you? The dictionary tells me that love is; a strong feeling of affection for another person; a...
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- 1151 reads
Resonance
For jarring fascinating minutes. It was in my ribs. Your voice, the bench, my bones.
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- 1132 reads