Tags » Prose

Unconscious Marxists

It has take a while

but I now realise

that Left Liberals

are unconscious Marxists.


Does the Universe remember the atom in me?

As I lay in my bed, lying awake and contemplating life, I sense a change in the air. I get this feeling quite sometimes now. This strange assurance that tomorrow nothing will be the same. 507 more words


stitched along the pattern, no flourishes or deviations from given instruction. ousted by the crowd and submitting into silence. the key swallowed before the lock clicked shut. 128 more words

Creative Writing

A Coffin within a Coffin

Here is the wakened human,
out of bed but still half asleep.
They ponder what will become
of this longing for love.

This person feels things. 62 more words


Incoming Message (Prose)

Agent Fregón sat on the damp park bench, sipping bitter, soapy coffee and frowning.  No one seemed to be watching so – very slowly – he poured it on the ground. 115 more words


What WE know: Our reality

Late into the night, I am riddled with thoughts of you, still. How could I possibly pretend as if this never impacted me from then on? 221 more words


Rum Cake Rhumba

Why can’t you just say you’ll be normal now? I wish I could repeat what alister just said but I shan’t. What do you think. Of what brianna said. 207 more words

Short Pieces