Ella

The arc of her time, splices lovely days, adds vodka to her wine, Macy's, the Five and Dime, New York alley ways, she drinks the moonshine, and hangs on the telephone, in a sun that frays, her search for home, to black evening night, where all debt get paid, she follows what's right, they'll let her know, if she delays, cold white stars for bones, she's done no crime, only sits with her gains, smells gently the Limes, down this broken lane. but who brings the fire, / thinking she'll be fine to make her happy ? / she will be happy that sought after light but who brings the fire the kids will arrive, their faces bright, making chocolate Maxima, thinking she'd be fine, vodka leads to ruin, but what is she doing,

Elana

She hates the dull why, the pleadings of reason, sought night after night, but where is the line, when fire turns the seasons, sedated by wine, what rights her thoughts, churn hours her pleading, cloud days her zero, who brings the time, to the walls her keening, when you have the knife, which flower bought, regular as the heating, her angel face caught, the hair spilled fine, beneath the moon’s easel, she sings out her lies, no suggestion of treason.

Ebbie

She wonders if she's right, to cry for the sea, in sought after light, but what is she doing, making chocolate Maxima, worrying about freedom, mulling over wine, cold in the season, thinking she'd be fine, vodka leads to ruin, watching clouds her reason, her eyes frozen prisms, but who brings the fire, to these walls like treacle, when down the line, the kids will arrive, regular as the heating, lilac as the night, their faces bright, to sooth her unease their shouting and fighting, time she can't leave.

Della

What lights up the pain, the sun rise uneven, cars filling up their lanes, i call out your name, with my dawn novena, but nothing is the same, each dance was a trip, but where are my feet, a bar to shake my hips, this fine tired game, provides no beat, just a morning shame, the blonde wooden skips, are stacked like wheat, but where are the ships, can’t there remain, that coming home feeling, you once generated, each green evening.

Debby

When we pass strange misery, falling like the rain, a dread cortege of limousines parents always feel, sometimes without grace, they'll never know the deal, when children grow to women, if they'll be okay, always be forgiven, Our Lady sees what's real, all the games we play, with cold lit intensity, she dances on the rivers, groaning with our names, the prayers we always summon, to hang on bursting leaves, engines without praise, we think can escape eternity, ignore the terms of freight.

Dafna

Please don't push me, I only weigh six stone, what is this called freedom, consolation of his love, a human need for home, here by an iron stove, i sing a song bittersweet, uneasy chants of lost souls, fills my hair and dreams, as we wait to move, the only song i own, bellows out my longing, shifting sounds of the sea, Syrian Greeks moonlit bones, the rock of Simon Peter, do you hear us keening, Europe doesn't want to know, men say 'time to leave', live or die alone.

Dee

In the passage there's a fight, between the drinkers and vagrants, her youngest suffers in silence, some ports are a sty, behind the lip of alley ways, where the cruise ships lie, she goes forward with a sigh, a cool oasis mind contained, away from the tourist cries, their brains are fried, what you would expect anyway, by sun, sex and wine, stilled by a daughter dying, laughing like no one's to blame, she dreams of islands, waits a moment for a lamp to shine, the monastery’s sweet gaze, a loving darkness around her light, kneels to an ancient flame.