Copyright (C) 2003 by Stephen Oliver.
te-washed room peeled,
flaked, wooden shutters opened
on the small harbour quay -
a restaurateur tipped his garbage
casually into the Mediterranean.
A night of fish bones, cigarette butts,
bobbed in an oily slick. West,
into shadow, Antínoös anchored off
the headland, outboard silenced,
dynamite exploding like an octopus
under a shoal of fish beneath.
Alcatraz not Minoan ruins.
Morning mist hangs its garden off
Golden Gate bridge. Men in
fog loom large. Fog or ram's horn?
Container ship - warrior barge,
passes under with another load of
Japanese cars to feast upon
freeways. 'Straight guys are at a
premium' you said. (Or so I
overheard). Seven months under
your roof in your bed. I never got
to Texas - never hit Route 66.
Marooned on my Isle, deep within
that lustful, solitary confinement.
Do words bring to mind flat
sided buildings, cliff face, waterfall?
Each emotion to its respectiv
When the economic downturn ends Matty Cruzís co... Read more
Cara Devon has always suffered curiosity and im... Read more
A telekinetic teenager. A telepathic child. A p... Read more
A century after an apocalyptic war reduces all... Read more
The list of books below is based on the weekly downloads by our users regardless of eReader device or file format.
See more popular titles from this genre.