The torn screen glistens
in the October side light.
Each intact square aperture
is bottom lit
with a blinding point.
Each gaping rent,
product of tenacious cat claws,
is framed with glowing pointers.
The jumping spider
haltingly,
robotically
tra verses the vertical landscape.
I don't need to smell the screen.
I know precisely how screens
smell and taste.
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Thirty-one years on the job, just a child some would say,
When he began working at the factory on that wintry day.
Each day
map to a secret treasure
and if you trace these scars
across her skin
you'll find the things
she left unsaid
if you look into
by Lady Cynthia
Another Day
A hard days work, and nothing to show,
Little food for the table, crops that won't grow.
Five little children,
by I William
Half past noon I was summoned
To report to the room of decision
Where deals are made then broken
With executive precision
Perhaps
by L Dunson
The door opened you walked into my life
like a breath of fresh air
bringing sunshine and laughter
to what was once a
dark existence
You
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