A strange condition for a rowamongst the headstone rows that flankthe hill side cemetery,that hangs and flows,marble chips and chips off marble, chip paper,scree of lager cans and driven flowers;sunlight […]
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The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged
A strange condition for a rowamongst the headstone rows that flankthe hill side cemetery,that hangs and flows,marble chips and chips off marble, chip paper,scree of lager cans and driven flowers;sunlight […]
Read moreEven without a caress its petals wait, try more red than usual then sweets, sent along with the scent from the latest hillside till one grave blossoms before the others […]
Read moreKill the funeral please.Mow down the mourners.Assassinate the coffin. Hey. pallbearers,hands up. don’t move.And preacher man…none of your phony speeches…heaven’s what I say it is. Don’t you know how muchI […]
Read more“In the dead and dark of night,/
upon a haunted gorge they rise.” #metaworkermonday
Come with me, it won’t be far; we have all night, and the seasons with it, in your heart: I’m dying. I’ll tell you about the nearer part of it, […]
Read moreEvery year, from the first I was assigned to the graveyard, I would watch the headstones from my place upon the highest pine tree. My job was to make sure […]
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