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Art Critic At the Beach by Genna Gardini

This seawood is just spool. It’s green and long as a projector’s tongue. And the rock it’s on seems plastic-knifed. Debowled, like an old VHS. It doesn’t work for me. But then, suddenly, the sea arrives and edits the scene...

Spirit by Brendon Hepburn

The haunting of the lost spirit in you, provides a gateway for the unknown evil to enter your hart, and bleeds out the endless questioning of your exists. Merely stating a choice and making the dark side, to obvious for...

The identity by Brendan Hepburn

Forbade the truth from these ears as if to sanctify the being within, and glory falls on the heart of the weak willed, forth you bring the problems of the dying yoke. Wisdom you seek in self-righteousness, but only failure...

Sober mind by Brendan Hepburn

Think of the mind of a sober man, It does not quarrel or convict, Nor does it ridicule or predict But its sympthys and compromises That so intacese the proclamation of love. It does not deceive or delight Or give...

Just a Gambit by Ephraim Zuva

You can bamboozle the world it is what it is, a ploy But you cannot hoodwink the wise Just a gambit You are an enigma from an obscure tribe So murky, you promise us a brighter future Obscurity conceives dusk...