Beat beat The iron hearts jangle in sync to the sound of money Voices fall from slashed flesh into beer glasses like slops You’re bluish eye cuts me down You’re stabbing words remain

Left, crying you left me Your wet handkerchief you left

My family life was one of despair No-one ever seemed to care I talked and talked but no-one heard This lonliness made me feel scared My mum would always shout and scream But when i talked she was in a daydream My dad would never hear my talk Eventually he made the decision to walk My fellow siblings had the same upbringing Its certainly not the greatest beginning To a life you want to lead your way You have a fight on your hands everyday So my family's not that great But there not the source of all my hate It grows deep inside my soul

LIfe in the crap lane Is a life full of hate and pain These are the feelings that control My entire life and soul The hate that i feel inside Affects my ability to decide How to react to people's approach Just trying to be friendly not wanting to encroach This pain is embedded in my heart Threatening to tear me apart This feeling also swells my brain With enough force to drive me insane My life at home could send me mad So i escaped from all things bad All that hate and all that pain I've left behind in the crap lane

I'd give the earth and all i'm worth To help my family Through all things bad and all things good I'd do everything i could To give them all a better life Avoiding all aggro and strife Sell my house, Sell my car Give all the money to dear old Ma Would she use it to invest and save Support her life to the grave No! All my efforts would be a waste Turn on heels and leave in haste I love my family with all my heart But the way they live tears me apart Its like a disease infecting the brain Invisible to them butcauses so much pain You need to leave and get away

Throw your hand towards the sky. To the darkened scene above, Littered with glowing specks. Point there And think of everything— What you hope to be, What you love, What makes you you, Your wish. Cherish it, Hold it deep in your heart And never forget it. If you keep it close Your hopes, Your love, Your wish, Will come true.

The writers - each on their own island, Marooned socially in a sea of others, Writing from private lands, Closed-off habitats, In darkened rooms, Ink-stained hands, Cup after cup of coffee, (And - later into the soul-seeking night - shot after shot of vodka) Watching the sea from afar And dreaming of it And dwelling upon its backward waves. Dreaming of the gold-rimmed ambitions Of spirit after spirit after spirit, And also wondering if the other writers - Those far-off islands each so solitary - Experience the same waves, Or, for that matter, The same sleepless nights,

The Sin Eater Together we sat on the confessional bench listening to the clicking of heels on mosaic tiles, awaiting the queue to die. A lady who lived in god’s house, watched us girls with her salmon eye, every move we made. Whispered penances festooned the lofty chapel, orderly shuffling from oldies denoted, our turn now, our sins would be eaten. The gridded partition creaked like old knuckles. I almost forgot ‘bless me father’ as my knees located a softer spot on the floor. Beads sang in A distracting manner.

DEAR SIR Dear Sir, Please excuse my sons absence He slept in We slept in The night before he studied into the small hours the mechanics of Skateboarding counting new bruises and fading others how he can ‘ollie’ sets of steps without broken marrow, it releases his anger. How the words of Curt Cobain relates to his 180 degree kick flip and the thrill of a half pipe. That being 16 messes with his head no one understands. And how is it fair, his girlfriend lives ten mile away and he’s no car, why work at the weekend tires him and grunge pulls him through.