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23. Featuring: Chris McCabe (UK)


Laura Bottomley (uk) + John Burroughs (USA) + Leilani Cesnek (UK) +
Cyndi Dawson (USA) + Vlado Kreslin (Slovenia) + Hosho McCreesh (USA)

Still Time

The sparkle in my eye I renounced for sand,
For bricks I sold my face,
My shadow I exchanged for land,
And dogs, my only companions.

Now I live in this quiet house,
This golden house of mine.
I open the door only to those
Who bring me fresh eggs,
And take away my trash.

I still have time to learn whether
I should stay or go.

One day I might tear down this fence,
Perhaps one day I might leave,
A new face will breathe with this house,
A new pair of glimmering eyes,
While only dogs remain.

I still have time to learn whether
I should stay or go.
I still have the time to learn
The ways of right and the forbidden,
Does the clouded sky hold the answer?

Vlado Kreslin


I am thinking of your voice.
How thinking of your voice?
I try & all I see is how you looked.
Sometimes, without hearing,
I picture the sound of your words.
But where is that?

How the Tube makes us read
ourselves each time new
– under the Thames the tremulous –
I almost panicked; is there anything
remains in analogue of how
you spoke, once, captured as a joke?

I create the format to support it
picture the reels on which you spoke
but when silent to listen, all I see is your face

Chris McCabe

Ahem (a hymn)

Stand up, stand up for Jesus
While his father knees us in the nuts
Plugs us in our butts
Aims to please us or displease us, as the case may be
By leading us into paths of unrighteousness
For his name’s sake
Never giving us a break
Teaching us to take more than we live
Die more than we give
It’s the same stale story
We distribute his excrement
In this world gone grim
And attribute the government
Of this shitcan to him
To God be the gory
Grating things he hath done

John Burroughs


She said she was going to the shop with me
She was going to the shop with me
She was going, she was going
She was gone. Gone
And yet she wasn’t at the shop with me
The door was in front of me
A big oak door with brown and cream
And did I scream?
Hell, yes!
And I banged and banged, but
Still the shop was there
And I was here.

Leilanie Cesnik