Time grabbed Irene, flung her through cracks in the past but is she falling towards the present day where she belongs?
Who is the Quill Driver? Find out in a short story set in a free verse poem.
Now I will if I have to. Introducing baby kelzbelzphotography
By Colin James Like dogs stuck together in transcendental copulation, we’re good at it. It’s the light ghostly, ethereal.
Writing the body is tough. As a thing with defined borders (like skin), and further borders within those borders (those we’re socialised to obey) that we dare not trespass against, it’s particularly tough to write the body in an open, curious, and freeing way. In attempting to write my own body, I constantly bump up […]
Poetry is fundamental like raw fish. Not everyone likes it, but for those who do partake there are benefits, not all of which are about beauty and music and elegance of thought. Whenever I take a bite of raw fish I feel like I’m not just feeding my face, but my soul as well, though […]
So about 3 or so weeks ago I noticed pain in my lower back on one side, twinges came and went. Started doing stretches etc. Hubbies done training in massage and sports. So helped me. Me being me avoided doctors and still do housework etch. The pain got worse then after a week n a […]