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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryGather The Wind Poette24 months 1 week ago
StoryThrob Points Poette07 months 2 weeks ago
StoryA while ago Poette08 months 1 week ago
StoryNo title Poette01 year 3 days ago
StoryTremors Poette01 year 2 months ago
StoryEyes Wide Shut Poette01 year 10 months ago
StoryOn this day the 7th of April Poette31 year 10 months ago
StoryFix me Epstein - Then I met my own Scouse-Jew Poette61 year 11 months ago
StoryBetween bookends Poette21 year 11 months ago
StoryThe Wolf loquaciousicity62 years 4 months ago
StoryFag ends Poette02 years 10 months ago
StoryGod Knows J.P. Oertel63 years 10 months ago
StoryThe Triumph of Death Poette04 years 1 week ago
StoryThe confluence of word and sound Poette44 years 2 weeks ago
StoryThe recluse is back from the United States Poette24 years 1 month ago
StoryIt's alright Ma, it's only karma Poette44 years 1 month ago
StoryEnjoy It for What It Is Poette04 years 4 months ago
StoryTime Poette04 years 6 months ago
StoryThe Joy of Invoice Poette04 years 7 months ago
StoryStalker Love Story, Part One: Beach Horseinabathtub44 years 7 months ago
StoryLines london_calling7994 years 7 months ago
StoryCharacter Creation (asking for feedback plz) Dakota_12314 years 7 months ago
StoryEighteen Sheets to the Wind ralph06 years 7 months ago
Forum topicPaul Chappell (Footsie/FTSE100) andrea416 years 7 months ago
StoryLording it on a pediment in Peckham Poette06 years 7 months ago

My stories

Gather The Wind

After one of my favourite songs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0b6inZfiGrw

Throb Points

The yogic tracts depict throb points turning from the toe to wrist, Rajas swirling in the throat. Every moment I shed my skin, but every moment...

A while ago

Sitting by the Victory Monument Sit flat in Lumphini Sit it out through the years. Time goes in circles isn’t straight goes round, weaves back around...

No title

*/ Furtive sun, strengthening. A flowerbed. Dog’s piss wafts in with the honey of new shoots. On the footbridge a woman, her recalcitrant child. One-...


*/ */ There’s death in the air, the type of death that floors her like a sack of potatoes, head thwack on concrete. The type of death in the...