The Lows The lows are too low. The blues are too blue. These feet can’t go on. They get in my way. The wind does not blow. I march to no drum. This cold is too cold. It freezes my brain. I hope against hope. Without you I lose. This bitter lemon life is notContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Luis Berriozabal”
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VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Kushal Poddar
The Roadkill You already have arisen to the steady sobbing. “Do you think her son is still locked inside?” I step out. Night has left its sanguine plumes on our staircase; its predator moans in the darkness; spring mates in the pollen ridden milieu with humid heat. No snivelling I hear. Your hands have theContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Kushal Poddar”
Dumpster Fire Press 