Monthly Archives: March 2016
Andrew McLean
It Is The Room My Husband Never Enters It is the room my husband never enters- Not an erotic euphemism, An actual room in which He also shows no interest. It is just as well. Within the room is my … Continue reading
Penny Reid
Dropping you off at the Swimming Pool There were no disclosures whispered by the future to prepare for the shocking view of your upper body in the rear view mirror. The everydayness of it now gently needling my belief that … Continue reading
Johnni Stanton
Morningsong A world turns and tiny grains of sand, mere landslips, are blown back to knock cloud revolutions in full turn upwards as angel toes that share wings, touch down on green earth. Copyright © Johnni Stanton 2016 Creative Director … Continue reading
Keith Gaboury
Miss Alford Walks A dressmaker stands tall on a shortened leg, vaulted traction under her corset’s sheath. One hip once swung out of socket, leaving one limb as an underdeveloped casualty. Yes, a surgical artist fitted Miss Alford, J. Gillingham’s … Continue reading
David Subacchi
SLOT MACHINE SATURDAY On a sixties, seaside Saturday crash of dodgems, sparking lights, smell of burning rubber, thrill of slot machines, penny falls, roll a coin and pinball in seafront arcades. Now no more the one armed bandits but the … Continue reading
James Rose: In the Mahghreb
IN THE MAGHREB El Ain, Loueta, Sefrou Beneath rocky cliffs, by dusty banks Cool, clear water flows across the stones Through beds of reeds, where fishes flash (and turtles lurk), To compact sheep, dun brown and thirsty, Wading through the … Continue reading
Raymond Miller
Delusions We were Care in the Community. A ward and its inhabitants plucked from a Victorian conservatory, poked inside a three storey cupboard, next door to a bridal shop and opposite the mug and murder park. None of our twelve … Continue reading
William Doreski
Women Shaped like Religious Objects My father returns to warn me that crocodiles inhabit my claw-foot bathtub, that women shaped like religious objects creep over the steppes to claim the darkest parts of my body. My father claims that his … Continue reading
Steven F Klepetar
Ghost Song #11 “Well, I waited for you inside the frozen traffic When you knew I had some other place to be” Dylan Morning snow and now the road has frozen. Cars slide on ice, twist off into ditches. … Continue reading
The Open Mouse 