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July | 2009 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2009/07
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: July 2009. July 15, 2009. Stutter briefly over glass. Beaded waters waning west. July 14, 2009. This house, if i return,. Will i still recall journeys. North in the fading light,. Waning spires and blanket towns. And the vast silken river,. Shimmering back at us,. The prairie-wide road,. The stud-lettered cinema,. And the humming tarmac,. Boiled-hamburger pink –. And the distant corner,. Around which lies Christmas. And bay window,.
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provost 88 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2010/12/13/provost-88-poem
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. December 13, 2010. As if through some forgotten fault. A rugged asbestos spire purports. Unappointedly above its urban parapet:. This is the inauspicious bishopric. That deconsecrated your wing. And disarmed your prayer. Internally, your landing gear regressed. And your wing-tips dimmed as gently. As the sundown of a pilot’s eye:. Dreaming elevators being lately unexercised. With inevitable time the creeping ivy awakens. Look – the provost 88. Enter y...
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December | 2010 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2010/12
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: December 2010. December 13, 2010. As if through some forgotten fault. A rugged asbestos spire purports. Unappointedly above its urban parapet:. This is the inauspicious bishopric. That deconsecrated your wing. And disarmed your prayer. Internally, your landing gear regressed. And your wing-tips dimmed as gently. As the sundown of a pilot’s eye:. Dreaming elevators being lately unexercised. With inevitable time the creeping ivy awakens.
burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com
October | 2009 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2009/10
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: October 2009. October 23, 2009. Train windows would appear to offer. A double-glazed derive for the goal-getter. Or time-limited, terminal, declining commuter. But no. because instead,. Bygoing england will embalm you like linen. And you’ll never pause to check your make-up. Until one day, somebody arrives to dig you up. Then, remarking upon your preservative sheen. They’ll leave little marks on the safety glass pane. October 18, 2009.
alexaliteration.blogspot.com
Like a Bird This Story Flutters Around in My Chest (Worldbuilding Prose)
http://alexaliteration.blogspot.com/2011/12/like-bird-this-story-flutters-around-in.html
Like a Bird This Story Flutters Around in My Chest (Worldbuilding Prose). Wednesday, December 21, 2011. I have a story inside of me waiting to be written. This is a realization that is all-together exciting and terrifying, but mostly exciting. When I think about this story I am filled with joy, but this story comes out of me not in a torrent but as a leaky faucet. Here is a droplet from that faucet:. The man gave a curt nod as he rose from his prostate position at the king’s feet. “Your m...8220;I cannot...
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December | 2009 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2009/12
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: December 2009. December 21, 2009. And its shooting gallery. With its blistered tiles. Snow-flecks on his eyelashes. And the roll-up poaching. Milkily in his skimmed complexion. Blog at WordPress.com. Blog at WordPress.com.
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November | 2009 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2009/11
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: November 2009. In the bleak mid-table. November 21, 2009. Shovel back the gloom:. The sometime sodden shroud. Dusks the winter skyline. A huddle of stands. Shirk the prying Skerne:. Quakers versus Stags,. In the bleak mid-table. Gabbiadini glides and gleams. As an uninhibited stream. Cuts across a misty moorland and. The ball simply follows. November 16, 2009. In raucous turn of flight. Their squealing ancestors daub.
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January | 2010 | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/2010/01
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. Monthly Archives: January 2010. January 27, 2010. Upon your dead face. And we evacuate the city. January 4, 2010. 8211; like a prose poem. January 4, 2010. Also applies to money-grabbing bastards the world over. Rendered in frames per annum. Whose moment of impact. Corpus at the moment of damage. January 4, 2010. 8216;s intents and purposes. And how easily the “i”. Can be picked from. A card index,. As a creature,. Ripped, wrung, overdrawn.
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burslemisbohemia | burslem is bohemia
https://burslemisbohemia.wordpress.com/author/burslemisbohemia
All humans are the same. Anything but fucking poetry. December 13, 2010. As if through some forgotten fault. A rugged asbestos spire purports. Unappointedly above its urban parapet:. This is the inauspicious bishopric. That deconsecrated your wing. And disarmed your prayer. Internally, your landing gear regressed. And your wing-tips dimmed as gently. As the sundown of a pilot’s eye:. Dreaming elevators being lately unexercised. With inevitable time the creeping ivy awakens. Look – the provost 88. Create ...
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