Issue Five

Autumn 2012




Unfinished, he sees only a Carroll
conundrum coupled with an Emily
Dickinson poem taking shape. Once he
has had his head drawn in, that is. Until

then he's on tiptoe at pencil tip,
watching his gallows go up: horizontal,
vertical, horizontal, diagonal
and that absurd stubby sliver of rope.

Up to that point his life's simply filler.
He plays a waiting game whilst the letter
of the law is applied. His sentence broken
only when light dawns and the h_ngm_n's beaten.



John Lindley



red fractal