Leucha

In the Catholic rooms, proclaimed by the sea, grant me what it took, for saying those terrible things, in the shadow of Saint Anthony, who falls across my ring, as by dawn and falling gloom, we wait at the infirmary, footsteps echo in empty shoes, the doctor's say nothing, sometimes it's not to be, love is detached from us, our mother's babies we swoon, hear summer's dark seething, sitting in the television room, it echoes our silly tunes, even gleanings of the wheat, no loss in our fortune, her smile beyond reach.

Lisa

Lara

When did i start crying, was it going back to Ireland, or my son saying, Nana loved the horses, first summer without her lies, on the ferry, kids' resources, or my lover praying, can you please stop sighing, she knows the score, a bucket for the poor, gone is the time, she opened our door, or declaimed us on altar rails, cathedrals to cover her disguise, no matter what she says, now she's on her flight, love makes no one wise, is winter still to gaze, what goes on inside ?

Karen

You wait upon my duress, and take me for your needs, in a yellow party dress, spit saliva on the rush mat, the cabin is your creed, you know where i'm at, children left without success, power to your seed, you only crave excess, sobbing on the flat, with the tide comes grief, across this shining bush land, my dreams echo less, on this desert scree, hurling rivers in my head, but nothing like your caress, we sit and drink all evening, you did not want to rest, the wounds of my conquest, bewitched by your reading, my rung feet at rest, love spare me.

Katrina

Take your children and dogs, just be who you are, in a warm Travel Lodge, that's what you'll have again, a sea rose for your car, the river's falling rain, you help me lift the fog, what's gone on so far, someone who kisses the frog, on the wall west of pain, your picture's lonely scar, I won't see you again, or will you give a nod, turn me into what you want, brittle life beneath your clod, your dance a diamond cross, all my fires are marked, but don't be my bog, or exploding fallen star.

Kristina

God my today's blue pennant, sailing with a lover's trauma, don't i feel blessed, smiling dangerously, with twigging lymphoma, my troubles are periphery, to her howling zest, she hurls complaints enormous, but needs me to rest, when it comes to need, she'll isolate some performance, that magnify worries easily, there's justice on her crest, the cabin jukebox roars, all around wait to confess, I press my yellow dress, a fist inside me claws, blows like a serpent's nest, opens the vodka drawer.

Katya

You used to write me then, of furs and feather and winters, bloody in a tenement, an injured frozen shock, you wrote of smoothing kisses, and sybarites of the knock, Brighton Beach you credit, with dollars, beds,fancy business, Villa's if you can get them, where you go to unlock, men cast in lonely splinters, and walk home crocked, laying down drained and spent, do you only help resisters, you my rootless friend, wearing boots and leathers?