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  Jun 30 Allison
Edward Coles
The line of freedom was drawn,
fortunate passports found
amongst the rubble of Ground Zero.

The future was not a boot,
more, groping hands through
intimate pockets
and blue light that decimates
the privacy of dreams.

No concentration camps,
Bernays fuelled the fire­
in a wolf's disguise
until the crowd would herd itself.

No Aryan prophecy-
hatred more efficient
when its hands are untied.
Small disparities linger
the stem of deception:

the bottom-feeders are sterilised,
benefits withdrawn, foundations exposed
as ******* palms gather the loot
they lifted through the ceiling.

Sensory comfort provides
the leisure of a clouded mind,
a blood sugar spike,
the Soma of our time.
Under halogen lights
they make love in the high-rise

then labour in sleep
for what love cannot afford.

Continents divide.
Africa: the cold shoulder.
Asia: the factory line.

Oceans swell in neoprene heat
as sling-shots are drawn
beneath a dying star.
Old skull of Palestine,
cross-hairs on the White House
and a contusion in Pakistan.

Doors of perception only open to addiction.
Separate from G-d ,
draw more blood from the ground
like a smoker in the inexhaustible
process of quitting.

A belief in infinity
that will last until the world's end.

The line of freedom was drawn.
Everyone believed that they were on the right side.
C
  Jun 11 Allison
Clare Coffey
White walls empty walls pure white
Such an infinite blank canvas
Enriched with expectation
Of all that may come to pass

White walls empty walls pure white
A life unlived a life unwritten
In the time of innocence
Before life's hurt has bitten

White walls empty walls pure white
A face unlined a heart unbroken
A heartbeat dancing with joy
The fatal lie still unspoken

White walls empty walls pure white
A hand untouched a hurt undefined
Everything left to play for
No need yet to hit rewind

White walls empty walls pure white
Fingers unburnt tempted by fire
Scorched seared and blackened
A soul emptied of desire

White walls empty walls pure white
A mind in prison a mind in chains
Lost without an exit sign
In a land where chaos reigns

White walls empty walls pure white
Boundaries of a life unloved
Scarred with the marks of torment
But those walls have never moved
Sometimes life hurts
  Mar 23 Allison
Empire
Bad
It’s getting bad again
I know because I’m enjoying it
When the darkness is exciting
Bad decisions are thrilling
Mistakes are cheap
Cause the value of my life
Is rapidly decreasing
  Mar 23 Allison
S Olson
I will retaliate with his mouth,
and you will become what you have made
me.
-- you leave me to stagnate;
talking myself in and out of love, I
forget the curvature, and allure of your body,
and the parts of me that fit in it
starve.

-- call it neutrality, abandonment,
or an "inability to live within" yourself -
call it your serotonin's-seppuku, or
the fact you are inconsiderate;

call it out, like you did in your sleep: "I love
you;"
I do not.
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