ralph

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Forum topicThe Wayward Bus karl_wiggins420 years 5 months ago
Forum topicA Shadow Of His Former Self... mississippi1020 years 6 months ago
Forum topicwhat ya readin' ? anna_tempt1220 years 8 months ago
Forum topicSupport an ABCtales Member: Buy martin_t's book! markbrown820 years 8 months ago
Forum topicHurricane Katrina sgardiner4520 years 9 months ago
Forum topicOwen Money ely_whitley2120 years 9 months ago
Forum topicMo Mowlam tcook1120 years 9 months ago
Forum topicSum it up in a sentence markbrown2020 years 10 months ago
Forum topicanyone want to come see my movie maddan720 years 10 months ago

My stories

14

On this day. The number 14, is all mine. Van Morrison singing. 'Turn up your radio'. I oblige. I'm in the moment. I spin in my dressing gown. Clap my hands to Aretha.

Like Montgomery Clift

It's building. This angst. Thick black bile. A heavy weather. Avenues empty, paths harden. This heat haze, can be grabbed. I sit in profile. Hopper honed. Framed by skylight,

Valley Story

Sickle moon hangs cockeye over the valley. Bubbling pots, sweating out sweet mists. The rosy boy poised proudly for dinner. As sunset hobo shuffles in for his piece.

From The Boundary

Victoria Park at dawn a chorus of leaves rustling her from whiskey sleep to dappled day the pipsqueak crows of midwicket long hop dewed worms as she crosses throws a stone

Shaved Grass: August 2006: St James’s Park

On shaved grass he lies. Under a bleached sun. Flicking pages like wasps. The dullness of late August, tires and twists hope. In this man-child. Waiting for the change, of turned leaves.

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