Latest Writing
POETRY
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MOLES by Matthew Haughton
Something had to be done about the moles; labyrinths stretched from the garden down to the hollow. Give moles an inch and they’ll burrow up to your door. So we dug holes in their paths and filled them with old coffee cans. Bleary eyed, dirty noses raised, down in the can they’d be covered in…
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BOY IN A FIELD by Shannon Elizabeth Hardwick
Boy in a field understand The lame Hearted go to him mouth filled Broken He brings the horses Of his grandfather His hands wheat Heavy I have seen him Monster himself With river-sickness and a girl His mother Maybe as a girl It is hard to say
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TOWN OF THE BELOVED by Allison Seay
We rested on a blanket by the water where I combed the sand and spoke your name gently You slept but I was not tired and never have I studied the fullness of a back not even of the dying
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