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..:: CONTENTS ::..
   Volume XI, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..


..:: 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
   Volume VII, Issue II
   Volume VIII, Issue I
   Volume VIII, Issue II
   Volume IX, Issue I
   Volume IX, Issue II
   Volume X, Issue I
   Volume X, Issue II

 
Poetry


Untitled
John Lowther

 

Nobody calls me monogamous with malice.
Sexy like radiation poisoning you mean.
Yeah, we have a hard time, thanks for laughing at our troubles – and what's worse, not even
             knowing or caring how it affects us.
We want you to be our eyes.
I never said who stole my money.
A mansion in disrepair can often lead to an end in mansion status, unless the disrepair is a result
             of the fact that the inhabitants are as old as the building, and the building is old enough to
             look sufficiently stately in its demise.
Beware of passion.
We've been boarded.

 

 

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