K A Rees


I There’s dust and black plastic instead of beach, the curled tongues of lizards washed up bubbles of air—the ticking shoreline. Some beads like scattered rosaries. There are diminutive shadows shaped as organs lying next to stars. Here, a heart …

Posted in 93: PEACH | Tagged

We make lemons.

after Allen Ginsberg You keep your dark light in jars of Vegemite, I keep my chest air in cans of lemonade and only breathe it / in super markets. Aisles of tinned goods, sugared cereal boxes wrapped in all the …

Posted in 86: NO THEME VII | Tagged