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..:: CONTENTS ::..

   Volume VIII, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..

  • Eric Weiskott
  • Loretta Clodfelter
  • Adam Fieled
  • RC Miller
  • David Harrison Horton

  • ..:: PROSE ::..

    ..:: ETC ::..
       Contributor's Notes

    ..:: ARCHIVES ::..
       Volume I, Issue I
       Volume I, Issue II
       Volume II, Issue I
       Volume II, Issue II
       Volume III, Issue I
       Volume III, Issue II
       Volume IV, Issue I

       Volume IV, Issue II
       Volume V, Issue I
       Volume V, Issue II
       Volume VI, Issue I
       Volume VI, Issue II
       Volume VII, Issue I

     
    Poetry


    from The Carmody-Blight Dialogues: 32
    Charles Tarlton

     

         CARMODY: We were laughing loudly all the way home in the car.
         BLIGHT: I don't remember doing that.
         CARMODY: Maybe you weren't there.

    In my dreams, when something bad happens to me it always feels well deserved. There is no
    specific sense that I've done anything wrong, just a climate of guilt, so that I can never complain
    or try to explain. This makes for the sort of dream that you're very glad to awaken from, if you
    know what I mean.

    in the doorway
    living room lights behind him
    my father, mad
    switch in his hand, pauses
    intensifying our fear

    if the vacuum
    broke and the power failed
    that's exactly
    what my wife will dream about
    concrete things, and practical

    anything can
    operate as metaphor
    for anything
    else. Similarities
    are not really required

     

     

    //   Advance   //