Tag Archives: George Bishop

A Kind of Diary

The black brimmed hat is still too big for his head, still pressing down, trying to cover his small ears, and the white letters of Police keep fading into fraying cotton like the lips of an ancient fresco. He visits … Continue reading

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First Sight

I fall in love often now, a safe distance from the triggers of marriage, out of range I’ve been told. I’m untouchable in the dark quarters of an enlarged heart— alone, afraid and happy. Blameless again, I go about the … Continue reading

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Drinking Days

The morning gathers on the bones of the day before, picking at the cavities of its crapulous hours. My I’s make their way through the city, shadows skating the stone and store front windows. The past moans. The future’s solved, … Continue reading

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Affair

As she spoke I began believing lies are the most essential factor behind all secrets, the ghost writer that turns a corner just as a promise is made or a wink is born. I was persuaded by the words that … Continue reading

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Axis

It’s amazing how the middle of the afternoon has become no different than the middle of the night, how age welds one airing to the other, hour to hour, minute to minute, second to second—and soon, day to day as … Continue reading

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