Thread Count by Allison Grayhurst

Thread Count Tumble down the ocean stairs, mounting the whales’ trail, maneuvering depths and distances unfathomed. Dream in the city at 5 a.m., accustomed to the speech that comes just before the birds awake and take away all formation of Continue reading Thread Count by Allison Grayhurst

The Last Say by Allison Grayhurst

The Last Say Call it an infestation of worms floor-mapping your innards. Call it an impossible current directing you over the crater-fall or a whispered breath ricocheting inside your skull that whispers “Loser! Fool! You have never belonged!” But you Continue reading The Last Say by Allison Grayhurst

The Field is Open by Allison Grayhurst

The Field is Open Going on, unable to order a plot of land that is not a prison pen. Monotony spreading, reflected in nerve endings frantic with anxiety. Repetitive motion, futility rises, and also that voice that wants to turn Continue reading The Field is Open by Allison Grayhurst

If it is what you want . . . by Allison Grayhurst

If it is what you want . . . Bleed out in the dirt and dung of relationship, leap like a lemming off the cliff soothe your cracked hands in olive oil, then take another’s hands and allow them to Continue reading If it is what you want . . . by Allison Grayhurst

It’s a strange dream by Allison Grayhurst

It’s a strange dream to be a woman, this woman, ripped out of an other-worldly childhood into monthly nightmare extremes, and the mess – the demanding insects crawling under coat sleeves, pant cuffs, arm cuffs onto belly and breasts, swollen, Continue reading It’s a strange dream by Allison Grayhurst

Now That I Swept by Allison Grayhurst

Now That I Swept I swept the veranda I swept the hall I swept in corners I turned a blind-eye at before. The encasing cracked. The bride’s dress was lifted out of the attic into sunlight. There was paint on Continue reading Now That I Swept by Allison Grayhurst

Hard Landing by Allison Grayhurst

Hard Landing A scattering of force lapping up voices from street corners, subway cars, seagull songs, using them as your own. The flowerheads drop, dried in a jar. You abandoned me, once my shell had cracked and my doom became Continue reading Hard Landing by Allison Grayhurst

Oasis? by Allison Grayhurst

Oasis? Cold wave, mother blue as the dead and empty sky, orphan sun sitting when pity has passed, love has left too for alliances with the party goers, party-givers and the run-of-the-mill wealthy mongrels of deception and worldly favour. Eyes Continue reading Oasis? by Allison Grayhurst