Kia Groom



At Cervantes

Tilted, the landscape becomes an aged face biting the bruised peach sky. This desert is all teeth: cancrum oris over wrinkles of sand, limestone grimace— or snarl? Children pick between her canines, sticking in cracks like fruit pulp. Tourists cling …

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Alice at Last

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly … – Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland I un-wake to damage. Neurotic light-bulb flicks once off, once on, illuminates imagined city skyline. Inside my bedroom it rains for days. …

Posted in 49.0: OBSOLETE | Tagged | Leave a comment

Inferno III: The Hanged Man

The roaches scuttle out from under old chip packets, kebab wrappers. One AM on a Sunday; mad as hot and twice as hell. I left my voice back at the bar, hanging in a slur around a friend’s strange mouth. …

Posted in 39.0: JACKPOT! | Tagged | Leave a comment