09: MUSIC



Ways of Death: No. 8

going up the Tweed-to-Ballina Highway at 110 to plant my open face in lightning's clean sheets bright as second days dawning in snapped flashes. One of its rogue forks tonguing from the sky tries to pick me up at the …

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Albania

* my father and I were standing at the glass book shelf looking down at a row of mao's works translated in albanian I said to dad why did you learn english not albanian? should I? no, he said, no, …

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Michael Slater 3

the prophecies will not be fulfilled i see this now with clarity everything is clear to me the blood was not rich enough too much sun too much sun i must make my bat smaller more compact weigh it down …

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Waiting for Fire

She's out again, crushing rocks with her eyelids. While you attach tennis raquets to your back and call them wings. She's turning cars over in the street and scraping out their guts with her bare hands, hoping to find a …

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Drill

In Los Angeles, 1974, the fire alarm would go off in the 7th Grade. Our teacher told us to hit the floor, hide under the desks. I didn't understand because I didn't speak English. Me, who'd recently arrived from Cuba, …

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Cuys: A Tale of Magic-Realism

A man from the Andes moved to a New York suburb and decided to raise guinea pigs, built a cuyero house, similar to a thatched kitchen in hut back home, his intention was to have cuy meat available for special …

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Shakepeare Didn’t Play Guitar

With the death of Elvis I could no longer believe. Since listening to Flaming Star on a winter Saturday, 1973 I had been a sucker for his elegies. Suspicious Minds took me out of the paddocks and into a bedroom …

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Stop Over

Who the fuck are they kidding in the transit lounge at the international airport of Fiji? The place looks new enough – I mean the shops: plenty of duty-free: perfume, drinks, walkman batteries… appropriate snaps of archetypal heavens with heavenly …

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Suite

I. I think even though it's a hard task we should stanch it now, the way the hard pillars of slight settle hard & fast in your “ha ha” posture. We know you're hard- ly a stickler to the “hard …

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Busker’s Partner

Pick me up and lay me in your lap. Rest Botticelli hips on your legs one hand on my stomach the other on my neck. Fingers on my nape pluck murmurs and sighs from emptiness. Then choke me rub my …

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Poet

I'm the very picture of red-lipped hot-blooded petulance: you comment on the glow of my cheeks – rouge has done wonders for my complexion. You see, I'm usually very pale, & look as though I'm wasting away. A touch of …

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Gestation

This is the way I want it: the risk like sex, unprotected, its gender unknown, its anomalies untested and what is perfection? This shape, my new scoliosis as permanent as the lengthening shadow of my abdomen. I hope, I hope …

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