(After Tennyson’s ‘The Dying Swan’) In this wasting plain a Wedge of swans Tangle in water So deep her eyes In the gyring ferment I am impotent Warming blankets only burn The stab I cannot touch her I cannot reach her To this berth I cannot go She writhes White feathers Drop around her bed […]
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On Scarborough beach, I played football. This image is one of my new paintings. It is autobiographical and consists of two halves. One half reflects my early life growing up in Neepsend, an industrial area of Sheffield. The other half depicts me, as a child, on the beach with my football. by Paul […]
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I’m poeming this poem from a forest-boreal transition zone anticipating intense public reaction to my poem against the bony mets that XXXX up my posture & infiltrate our nat’l backbone its prostate biopsy analogy lost/inapparent in the sagamore gloam this spine unresponsive to the pre-patent analog that is my poem by Maureen Miller doctorwritermaureenmiller.tumblr.com [This […]
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Just got a letter from disability insurance: Denied. I’m not disabled enough to get anything. After months of trying to convince them. How do you prove you can’t work? I cannot sit up, stand, or walk hardly at all. There is no job I can do while laying down, without having to make phone calls. […]
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