Worrom Doog – a poem by Elisabeth Horan

Worrom Doog Morning will break, yes – ……………as forever it has donne before ………………………..and your pools will be my pools We will be half alive or half dead ……………properly mixed; our chi – ………………………..poised for repositioning Bleeding for how hard we stared at each other: ……………as if infrared goggles could spare a retina, ………………………..as if […]

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Relic – a poem by Paul Bregazzi

Relic As to relics: there are three orders of magnitude: for the first the saint is dug from his years of rest, a ghost bone taken, shattered lovingly with hammer blows and the infinite particulate, packaged. Then the second order: something touched by him, perhaps a scrap of clothing, that he slept or ate in, […]

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