Jane Hyphen
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Magpies
Walking in the dead grey November days, just slits Open wide enough to see Magpies gather in a tree ‘You’re alive,’ they rasp I check myself; a...
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- 8192 reads
Autopsy of a Boss
We don’t know how he died, he was slumped over the scanner, no real sign of injury but a drip, like a blood road, stark red against his pale skin had...
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- 4955 reads
Trodden Steps
How many trodden steps? Pain contained, muted In this our survival trance We were treading the abyss The sparks of our youth Extinguished in the mud...
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- 1735 reads
The Hidden Help
They’re back The hidden help I woke with them inside Something’s wrong They talk among themselves And they are right, just Like the voice I heard...
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- 11112 reads
Your Mother
She’s a stain on you your mother On us, a serpent brimming spite Casts her venom spit-hissed And there’s no hope No light relief, no antidote Each...
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- 7160 reads