Tag Archives: Phil Lane

Afterimage

Here is a photograph, a composite of youth: boys race down a flagstone path, bicycles rush over macadam streets, the world is black and white, uncomplicated. In paper-thin portraits inside auburn tomes, the dead live on, their monochrome faces, their … Continue reading

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Nine Ways of Looking at Dawn

I Dawn encroaches like doom written on the sky, a contract you never signed, a painting without a signature. II Dawn unfurls like a white flag, you surrender to a morning that looms with idle hands, itches for something to … Continue reading

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Noel

First frost like cocaine glaze on gingerbread rooftops, the blue, blue morning unfolds like an eyelid, beneath the star-spangled stasis, we are threading white lights through dead pine, following the formalities: ’tis the season to muddle through somehow. Phil Lane’s … Continue reading

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